


A Demon's Angel

by Lady_of_the_Lake_of_Stories



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angel!Reader, F/M, Female!Reader - Freeform, Playful Flirting, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, x Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:53:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22028137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_of_the_Lake_of_Stories/pseuds/Lady_of_the_Lake_of_Stories
Summary: When a relatively unimportant angel skips out of Heaven with the help of her friend Aziraphale, she ends up being caught in the shenanigans of her favorite angel and demon. As Armaggedon fast approaches can she come to terms with her long harbored feelings and help her friend and her demon save the world?
Relationships: Crowley (Good Omens) & Reader, Crowley (Good Omens)/Reader
Comments: 12
Kudos: 106





	1. Chapter One-The Beginning

In the beginning of the world as humans know it (exactly Sunday the 21st of October, 4004 B.C. at 9:13 on the dot) God created Earth. Yes indeed, the Earth is a Libra. One can only hope other Libras at least somewhat enjoy that knowledge.  
It wasn’t long after that a lovely little angel named (Y/N) skipped out of heaven and began to enjoy the fruits of the Lord’s labor. Within seven days man had been created and the sweetest angel in existence had discovered the celestial stow-away and promised to keep the secret so long as the runaway angel did God’s work. It was a lovely little bit after the creation that these two were in confidence when the first big scandal of the Bible occurred. It involved a serpent, an apple, and a man and wife.

It was a beautiful day, rain had yet to be invented so the first trace of it hanging in the sky was a novelty indeed. And as two angels stood upon the wall, watching a pregnant Eve and Adam leave Eden, they were joined by a rather large black snake. It slowly rose up between the two angels and morphed into a demon. Specifically, the demon Crawley.  
“Well, that went down like a lead balloon.” the demon said rather plainly, making the sweet angel, Aziraphale, chuckle a little awkwardly.  
“Sorry, what was that?”  
“Zi-Zi, I do believe he said ‘Well, that went down like a lead balloon.’”  
“Good to know someone listened.” the demon teased quietly as the angel quickly spoke over him,  
“Yes, yes, it did rather,”  
“Bit of an overreaction if you ask me.” the demon said casually as Aziraphale stared at him, bewildered, “First offense and everything.”  
“You do have a point. What’s so wrong about seeing the difference between good and evil? We do, after all,” the escaped angel said with a shrug.  
“Well, it must be bad (Y/N) and…”  
“Crawley.”  
“...Crawley. Otherwise, Crawley wouldn’t have tempted them into it.”  
“Oh,” Crawley began, looking rather bored, “they just said, ‘Get up there and make some trouble.’”  
“Well, obviously. You’re a demon. It’s what you do.”  
“Zi-Zi, what have I told you about manners?”  
“Oh don’t worry over it. Besides, it’s not very subtle of the Almighty. Fruit tree in the middle of a garden with a ‘Don’t Touch’ sign. I mean, why not put it on top of a high mountain? Or on the moon?” Crawley pondered, making the angels glance up, “Makes you wonder what God’s really planning.”  
“Oh I wouldn’t bother speculating,” (Y/N) sighed  
“That’s right, it’s all part of the Great Plan. It’s not for us to understand.” Aziraphale explained before adding with a hint of finality, “It’s ineffable.”  
“The Great Plan’s ineffable?” Crawley asked  
“Exactly. It is beyond understanding, and incapable of being put into words.” Aziraphale finished as the demon and other angel looked him over.  
“Zi-Zi, don’t you have a flaming sword?”  
“Uh…”  
“You did, it was flaming like anything. What happened to it?” Crawley asked  
“Uh…”  
“Lost it already have you?” the demon teased  
“I gave it away,” Aziraphale admitted rather quietly.  
“You what?” the angel and demon asked, both with extraordinarily different reactions.  
“I gave it away,” Aziraphale repeated, seeming mildly distressed, “There are vicious animals. It’s going to be cold out there. And she’s expecting already.”  
“Yeah, leave it to the humans to figure out the fun part early.” (Y/N) muttered  
“And I said,” the angel continued as if his friend had never spoken, “‘Here you go. Flaming sword. Don’t thank me. And don’t let the sun go down on you here.’ I do hope I didn’t do the wrong thing.”  
“Oh, you’re an angel. I don’t think you can do the wrong thing.” Crawley said sarcastically.  
“Oh, oh, thank—Oh, thank you.” Aziraphale said, seeming rather pleased as (Y/N) facepalmed and Crawley smiled, “It’s been bothering me.”  
The sound of a lion roaring in the distance drew the trio’s attention and far off they could see Adam holding the flaming sword as he stood between Eve and a lion hoping the make them his lunch.  
“It’s been bothering me too. What if I did the right thing with the whole,” Crawley said, looking concerned, as Adam charged at the lion, “‘eat the apple’ business? A demon can get into a lot of trouble for doing the right thing.”  
They watched as Adam managed to slay the lion, Crawley continuing to speak,  
“Be funny if we both got it wrong, eh? If I did the good thing and you did the bad one.”  
The three chuckled before Aziraphale realized the implications, “No. It wouldn’t be funny at all.”  
“Well…” Crawley and (Y/N) muttered, smiling slightly. The quiet pattering of rain picked up and thunder crashed in the distance as (Y/N) lifted her wings above Crawley in Aziraphale.  
“Does it really matter though? Maybe this is all part of the, ineffable, Great Plan,” she said with a playful smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something I just thought I'd try out. I hope you like it and we'll see if I end up doing a male and non-binary ver. of the fic at somepoint.


	2. Chapter Two-The Inbetween

It was 3004 B.C. in Mesopotamia.  
Dark storm clouds loomed overhead as a crowd of hecklers watched a] man named Noah load an ark with two of every kind of creature. Within this crowd were two angels, side-by-side, watching the events transpire.  
“Hello, Aziraphale, (Y/N).”  
“Crawley,” Aziraphale said  
“Hello, Crawley.” (Y/N) said, looking slightly solemn despite the demon’s more chipper tone.  
“So,” Crawley said with a smirk, focused on Aziraphale, “giving the mortals a flaming sword. How did that work out for you?”  
“Lucky for Zi-Zi, the Almighty has neglected to mention it again.”  
“Lucky indeed. Probably a good thing.” Crawley said, looking around, “What’s all this about? Build a big boat and fill it with a traveling zoo?”  
“From what I hear, God’s a bit tetchy.” Aziraphale said, “Wiping out the human race. Big storm”  
“All of them?” Crawley asked, looking a bit appalled.  
“No,” (Y/N) said rather bitterly, “just the locals.”  
“I don’t believe the Almighty’s upset with the Chinese,” Aziraphale added, “Or the Native Americans. Or the Australians.”  
“Yet,” Crawley said quietly.  
“And,” Aziraphale said, looking pointedly at (Y/N), “God’s not actually going to wipe out all the locals. I mean, Noah, up there his family, their sons, their wives, they’re all going to be fine.”  
“But they’re drowning everyone else?” Crawley asked disbelievingly.  
“Yes.” (Y/N) spat, “Men, women, children, infants, newborns. Simply because they’re all too ‘sinful’ to be redeemed.”  
“Not the kids?” Crawley asked, seeming shocked and disgusted, “You can’t kill kids.”  
“Mm-hmm,” Aziraphale said, nodding as Crawley’s look of horror grew.  
“Well, that’s more the kind of thing you’d expect my lot to do,” Crawley said  
“Yes, but when it’s done, the Almighty’s going to put up a new thing, called a ‘rain bow’, as a promise not to drown everyone again.” Aziraphale insisted  
“As if it makes up for all the innocent lives taken.” (Y/N) said, looking around and feeling a knot form in her throat. Crawley gently took her hand, ever so discreetly and gave it a gentle squeeze of reassurance.  
“How kind,” Crawley said sarcastically.  
“You two can’t judge the Almighty. God’s plans are—”  
“Are you going to say ‘ineffable?’” Crawley asked with a slight edge to his voice. There was a moment of quiet from Aziraphale before he answered,  
“Possibly.”  
A horse whinnied in the distance as Crawley called out,  
“Oy! Shem! That unicorn’s going to make a run for it.”  
They watched as a unicorn galloped away from the ark and safety as Crawley pointed at it, “Oh, it’s too late. It’s too late! Well, you’ve still got one of them!”  
Thunder crashed and the crowd around them gasped and rain began to fall. (Y/N) gripped Crawley’s hand like a lifeline as the people around them sighed and looked around.

And then it was 33 A.D., Golgotha.  
The sound of a hammer striking a nail made a sickening pit form within (Y/N)’s stomach as the Romans nailed Jesus to a cross. He prayed as they drove the nails into his hands and feet, asking the Almighty to forgive these people.  
“Come to smirk at the poor bugger, have you?” Crawley asked, stepping up behind the two angels.  
“Smirk? Me?” Aziraphale asked  
“It’s sickening.” (Y/N) said  
“Well, your lot put him on there.”  
“We’ve not consulted on policy decisions Crawley,” Aziraphale said  
“Oh, I’ve changed it.”  
“Changed what?”  
“My name. ‘Crawl-y’ just wasn’t really doing it for me. It’s a bit too...squirming-at-your-feet-ish.”  
“Well, you were a snake.”  
“Quiet Zi-Zi.” (Y/N) said, relieve for a slight distraction, “What’s your name now?”  
“Crowley.”  
“Hmmm.” Aziraphale hummed.  
“I like it. Plenty of nicknames.” (Y/N) said as the hammer struck again. It struck a few more times before anyone spoke.  
“Did you ever meet him, Crowley?” (Y/N) asked  
“Yes. Seemed a very bright young man. I showed him all the kingdoms of the world.”  
“Why?” Aziraphale asked  
“He’s a carpenter from Galilee. His travel opportunities are limited.” Crawley said just before the began to drive a nail into his other wrist. (Y/N) jumped, grabbing Crowley and Aziraphale’s arms.  
“That’s got to hurt,” Crowley muttered, “What was it he said that got everyone so upset?”  
“‘Be kind to each other.’” (Y/N) said  
“Oh, yeah. That’ll do it.” Crowley said as they drove the nail in farther.  
The trio of immortals watched as they began to haul the cross Jesus was on up. (Y/N) squeezed her eyes shut as he began to scream out in pain, and felt a hand resting gently over the one clutching Crowley’s arm.

Then it was eight years later, 41 A.D. in Rome.  
The chatter of mortals buzzed around a woman in all white beside a man donned in only black.  
“What have you got? Give me a jug of whatever you think is drinkable.” the man said, drawing the attention of another patron nearby.  
“I’ll take what you give him.” the woman said politely.  
“Two jugs of house brown. Four sesterces.”  
“You’re expensive to keep around angel, I hope you know that,” Crowley said as he passed the payment over.  
“I’ll pay you back Crow. I promise.” (Y/N) said with a smile, admiring Crowley’s darkened glasses and haircut. She always had to admire them, no matter how often she saw them.  
“(Y/N)? Crawley—Crowley?” a familiar voice said, making the duo turn to see Aziraphale, “Well… Fancy running into you two here.”  
“Oh, hello Zi-Zi!” (Y/N) chirped as her old friend pulled up a seat.  
“Hello (Y/N).” Aziraphale said before turning his attention to Crowley, “Still a demon, then?”  
“What kind of stupid question is that, ‘Still a demon’?” Crowley asked quickly, “What else am I going to be, an aardvark?”  
“Oh Crow, be nice.” (Y/N) sighed as Aziraphale held up his glass.  
“Salutaria,” he said with a smile. The three clinked glasses before Crowley began to down his, (Y/N) giving Aziraphale an apologetic smile.  
“You two in Rome long?” Aziraphale asked.  
“Just thought I’d see the sights.”  
“Just nipped in for a quick temptation,” Crowley said, “You?”  
“I thought I’d try Petronius’ new restaurant. I hear he does remarkable things to oysters.”  
“I’ve never eaten an oyster,” Crowley said after a brief pause.  
“Oh. Oh well, let me tempt you to—” Aziraphale began making (Y/N) giggle as Crowley looked over, “Oh, no. No that’s—that’s your job, isn’t it?”  
Crowley smiled, taking another drink as he watched the two angels.  
“Well, why don’t we all go out for lunch on me. I can pay Crow back and Zi-Zi gets his oysters.”  
“Alright angel. Lead the way Aziraphale, lunch is on (Y/N).”

And then it was 537 A.D. in the Kingdom of West Essex  
Aziraphale walked through the thick mist, (Y/N) at his side (currently disguised as a man) as their squire led their horses behind them. Aziraphale lifted the faceplate of his helmet, (Y/N) following suit before the male angel called out as the two stepped forward,  
“Hello? I, Sir Aziraphale of the Table Round, accompanied by Sir Geoffery, also of the Table Round, are here to speak to the Black Knight.”  
A figure shambled towards the two and (Y/N) put a hand on her sword as Aziraphale smiled, “Um...hello.”  
The figure beckoned the two forward, telling them to come. The duo took a couple of steps forward as (Y/N) spoke,  
“We need to meet with the Black Knight.”  
More figures rose from the fog as a figure in full black armor stepped up, “You have sought the Black Knight, foolish ones. But you have found your death.”  
(Y/N) recognized the voice instantly, and cocked her head slightly. Aziraphale seemed to have realized the same thing.  
“Is that you under there, Crawley?”  
“Crowley Zi-Zi, it’s Crowley.”  
“Thank you, (Y/N),” Crowley said as he lifted the visor of his helmet.  
“What the hell are you playing at?” Aziraphale demanded in a harsh whisper.  
“It’s alright lads. I know them, they’re alright.” Crowley said glancing over his shoulder before answering, “I’m here spreading foment.”  
“What is that some kind of porridge?”  
“Oh my—it means to instigate, Zi-Zi.”  
“Exactly, you know, I’m fomenting dissent and discord. King Arthur’s been spreading too much peace and tranquillity in the land, so I’m here, you know, fomenting.”  
“I should’ve known it was you. Only you could have such an impact Crow.”  
“Thank you, angel.”  
“Well, we’re meant to be fomenting peace,” Aziraphale said, giving a pointed look to his fellow angel as if trying to remind her of their job.  
“So we’re all working very hard in damp places and just canceling each other out?”  
“Well, you could put it like that.”  
“Oh, please Zi-Zi. That’s exactly what it is.”  
“Well, it is a bit damp.”  
“Be easier if we all stayed home. If we just sent messages back to our head offices saying we’d done everything they’d ask for, wouldn’t it?”  
“But that would be lying.”  
“You already lie for me Zi-Zi.”  
“Yes, but that’s different.”  
“It’s not that different. Besides, the end results would be the same if we stayed home or not. Cancel each other out.”  
“But, my dear fellow...well, they’d check.”  
“That’s fair, Micheal’s a bit of a stickler.” (Y/N) said, “And no one would want Gabriel upset with them.”  
“Oh, out lot have better things to do than verifying compliance reports from Earth. As long as they get the paperwork, they seem happy enough. As long as you’re beings seen to be doing something every now and again.”  
“It’s not a bad idea.”  
“No! Absolutely not! I am shocked that you would even imply such a thing. And you, going along with it (Y/N). We’re not having this conversation. Not another word.”  
“Zi-Zi—”  
“Not another word!” Aziraphale said, stomping off.  
“Right,” Crowley said as (Y/N) gave him a helpless look.  
“Right!” Aziraphale snapped looking over his shoulder, “Come along (Y/N).”

And then it was 1601 in London. Specifically, the Goble Theater.  
A sparse crowd of about four people stood around a stage as a woman walked around selling food.  
“Oysters! Oranges!”  
As approached a man in white and he politely asked for grapes. Meanwhile, one stage a man spoke,  
“To be or not to be, that is the question. Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind—”  
As the actor monologued a pair entered the theater a man with dark glasses all in black and a woman in a lovely gray dress.  
“I thought you said we’d be inconspicuous here,” Crowley said as he and (Y/N) stepped up behind Aziraphale, (Y/N) snagging a grape.  
“Yes, I do remember you saying something about blending in among the crowds.” (Y/N) teased, popping the stolen snack in her mouth.  
“Well, that was the idea,” Aziraphale said, trying to defend his plan as the actor droned on.  
“Hang on.” Shakespeare interrupted and the actor’s dull buzz went quiet.  
“This isn’t one of Shakespeare’s gloomy ones, is it?”  
“It will certainly be gloomy if it continues on like this.” (Y/N) muttered as Aziraphale gave a small nod.  
“Ah, no wonder nobody’s here!”  
“Shhh. It’s him. It’s him.” Aziraphale said quickly as Shakespear approached the trio.  
“Prithee, gentles, and lady. Might I request a small favor?” he began, “Could you, in your role as the audience, give us more to work with?”  
“You mean, like when the ghost of his father came on, and I said, “He’s behind you!’”  
“Just so. That was jolly helpful. Made everyone on stage feel appreciated. A bit more of that.” Shakespeare said as he began to move away, “Good Master Burbage, please. Speak the lines trippingly.”  
“I am wasting my time up here.” the actor complained.  
“No, no, you’re very good.” Aziraphale reassured, “I love all the...talking.”  
“And what do your friends think?”  
“Oh, the gentleman is not my friend. We hardly know each other.”  
“I think you should get on with the play,” Crowley said with a smile.  
“Yes, Burbage. Please.” Shakespeare said, “From the top!”  
(Y/N) leaned over to Crowley with a grin as she whispered,  
“Thank for saving me from spinning a lie to feed the poor man.”  
“To be or not to be. That is the question.” Burbage began, earning groans from the audience.  
“To be! I mean, not to be!” Aziraphale shouted, gaining looks from his companions, “Come on, Hamlet! Buck up!”  
“Whether ‘tis nobler,” Burbage continued, “in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows—”  
“He’s very good isn’t he?” Aziraphale asked quietly  
“Age does not wither, nor custom stale his infinite variety.” (Y/N) said sarcastically, earning a smile from Crowley and a look from Shakespear as he commented on how he liked the line.  
“What do you want Crowley?” Aziraphale finally asked  
“Why ever would you insinuate that I might possibly want something?”  
“You are up to no good.”  
“Oh is he ever Zi-Zi? But we can only assume you are up to good.”  
“Yes, lots of good deeds.”  
“No rest for the...well, good. I have to be in Edinburgh at the end of the week.”  
“Oh.” Crowley hummed  
“Fascinating.”  
“Yes, I have a couple of blessings to do. A minor miracle to perform. Apparently,” he said, looking like he rather disliked the idea, “I have to ride a horse.”  
“Ah, hard on the buttocks, horses. Major design flaw if you ask me. I’m meant to be heading to Edinburgh too this week.”  
“Oh yes, Crow is to be tempting a clan leader to steal some cattle.”  
“Doesn’t sound like hard work.”  
“That’s why I thought we should…” Crowley began, earning a confused look from Aziraphale.  
“It is a bit of wasted effort if you both go all the way to Scotland. And leave poor little me behind.”  
“You two cannot actually be suggesting...what I infer…you are implying.”  
“Which is?” Crowley asked  
“That just one of us goes to Edinburgh, does both. The blessing and the tempting.”  
“Oh, you’ve done it before Zi-Zi.”  
“Yes, dozens of times now. The arrangement—”  
“Don’t say that.” Aziraphale interrupted.  
“Look, the head offices don’t truly care how things get done. So long as they are done.”  
“But if Hell finds out, they won’t just be angry, they’ll destroy you, Crowley.”  
“Zi-Zi, nobody ever has to know.”  
“Exactly. Toss you for Edinburgh.”  
“Fine.” Aziraphale said, caving, “Heads.”  
(Y/N) snatched the coin from Crowley and flipped it, catching it with ease before turning it over on the back of her hand. She glanced down and frowned,  
“Sorry Zi-Zi tails.”  
“You’re going to Scotland then,” Crowley said. They overheard Shakespeare talking to the woman selling food about how every performance had been poor. He mentioned it taking a miracle for anyone to see Hamlet. Instantly Aziraphale’s gaze snapped over to Crowley and (Y/N) and Crowley sighed.  
“Yes alright, we’ll handle that one. Our treat.”  
“Oh, really?” Aziraphale said, practically glowing with happiness.  
“I still prefer the funny ones,” Crowley said, walking away. (Y/N) gave Aziraphale a quick kiss on the forehead before following after Crowley and waving.  
“Have fun in Edinburgh!”

And then it was Paris, 1793.  
Two rather nicely dressed individuals were in a cell as a crowd cheered outside. The man sat on a small stool as the woman paces the cell, going as far as her chains would allow, looking rather frazzled.  
“Oh Zi-Zi, why did I let you drag me into this? I told you we should have worn more plain clothes, but no. You insisted it would be fine and I was silly enough to go along with it. Now we’re going to get discorporated and everyone will know I slipped out of heaven at the beginning!” (Y/N) rambled as keys began to jangle in the lock of their cell. She froze and the two looked over to see a revolutionist opening their cell to come and get them for the guillotine. The man stepped into their cell and began to speak in French, a language lost upon (Y/N), though Azirphale seemed to understand some and began to (rather poorly) attempt to tell the man there had been a mistake. The man held up a finger and said told Aziraphale that he spoke English as the guillotine slid down and crashed in the background as a scream floated in from outside.  
“Listen to that. The fall of the guillotine blade. Is it not terrible?”  
“Yes, cutting off that poor woman’s head. Terrible.”  
“It is Pierre. An amateur. Always he let go of the rope too soon. You two are lucky that is is I, Jean-Claude, who will remove your traitorous head from your shoulders.”  
“Please sir, this is all a terrible mistake. You see, I don’t think you understand—” (Y/N) began before Jean-Claude cut her off.  
“I have good news for you. You, monsieur, are the 999th aristo to di at the guillotine y my hand. Et vous mademoiselle, are the 1,000th. But you both are the first and second English. Now…” Jean-Claude said, moving behind Aziraphale who shot up and moved away from the stool.  
“Please! No! Dreadful mistake, discorporating us. Oh, it’ll be a complete nightmare” Aziraphale said as the guillotine crashed again and the crowd cheered. Jean-Claude turned to cheer with them when suddenly he froze.  
“Animals,” Aziraphale said as a voice came from behind the two angels.  
“Animals don’t kill each other with clever machines, angels. Only humans do that.” a voice said from behind them and the two turned.  
“Crowley!” (Y/N) cried, beaming as she finally relaxed. The demon was lounging in the corner as if he had all the time in the world, dressed similar to the lot decapitating aristocrats.  
“Oh, good Lord.” Aziraphale sighed, turning away slightly.  
“What the deuce are you two doing locked up in the Bastille? I thought you two were opening a book shop.”  
“We are, but somebody got peckish.”  
“‘Peckish?’”  
“Well, if you must know it was the crepes. You can’t get decent ones anywhere but Paris. And the brioche.”  
“So you two just popped across the Channel during a revolution, because you wanted something to nibble? Dressed like that?”  
“Well, I tried to tell him, Crowley! But he has standards and insisted it would be fine.”  
“I’d heard they were getting a bit carried away over here but—”  
“Yeah, this is not getting carried away. This is cutting off lots of people’s heads very efficiently with a big head-cutting machine. Why didn’t you just perform another miracle and go home?”  
“I was reprimanded last month. They said I’d performed too many frivolous miracles. Got a strongly worded note from Gabriel. Poor (Y/N) here was scared out of her wits that they would discover her.”  
“Well then, you two are lucky I was in the area.”  
“Undoubtedly.” (Y/N) sighed, “So what are you here for?”  
“My lot sent me a commendation for outstanding job performance.”  
“So all this is your demonic work?” Aziraphale asked  
“Oh please Zi-Zi.”  
“No. The humans thought it up themselves. Nothing to do with me.” Crowley said before snapping his fingers, making their chains fall away.  
“Thank you Ro.”  
“Ro?”  
“I’m trying it out? Do you like it?”  
“It’s fine, I think I prefer Crow though.”  
“Noted.”  
“Well,” Aziraphale said, “ I supposed we should say thank you for the, uh, rescue.”  
“Don’t say that. If my people hear I rescued an angel, I’ll be the one in trouble. And my lot do not send rude notes.” Crowley said quickly, stepping towards them. (Y/N) gently took his hand and gave it a light squeeze and he paused, glancing at her from behind his dark glasses.  
“Well, we are very grateful Crow.”  
“Yes, what about if I buy you lunch?”  
“Looking like that?” Crowley asked and Aziraphale glanced down and sighed. With a small flourish, he switched outfits with Jean-Claude. (Y/N) gave the same flourish and her dress turned quickly into more common attire.  
“It hardly counts as a miracle, right?”  
“Not even barely.” Crowley agreed before snapping his fingers. Jean-Claude looked down, instantly noticing the outfit switch and looked baffled. He was quickly lead out by guards and Crowley leaned over to the two angels and said,  
“Dressed like that he’s asking for trouble.”  
After a moment’s pause (Y/N) glanced at Aziraphale, “So what’s for lunch?”  
“What would you say to some crepes?”

There was a meeting between Aziraphale and Crowley in 1862, but (Y/N) was very much unaware of this meeting for the demon was afraid of her reaction.

So then, it was 1941 during an air raid in London.  
A clock chimed in the distance as air raid sirens wailed throughout the city. (Y/N) walked into a church, her hand resting on the gun in her pocket, as she followed Aziraphale to meet some Nazi’s to deliver some books of prophecy. She fidgeted as they approached, but Aziraphale spoke with confidence.  
“Mr. Glozier. Mr. Harmony.”  
“Mr. Fell. Miss de Angelo. You are late.” Mr. Glozier said, “But not to worry.”  
“You have the books for the Fuehrer?” Mr. Harmony asked  
“Yes, we do.” (Y/N) said, motioning for Aziraphale to hand over the books. He stepped forward and set them on the table between the two pairs and Aziraphale gave them both a brief nervous smile.  
“Books of Prophecy. Otwell Binns, Robert Nixon, Mother Shipton. First editions, as requested.”  
“What about the other book we told you to bring us?” Mr. Harmony asked, “The Fuehrer was most definite that he needs it. It has the prophecies that are true. With the true book, the war is as good as won.”  
“The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch.” Aziraphale said, “No luck, I’m afraid.”  
“Honestly sirs, that is the Holy Grail of prophetic books. You’re as likely to find it as the Ark of the Covenant.”  
“The Fuehrer also wants the Holy Grail. And the Spear of Destiny and the Ark, should you run across them.” Mr. Glozier said, earning forced, strained smiles from Aziraphale and (Y/N).  
“Why,” Mr. Harmony began, “are the no copies of Agnes Nutter’s books? We have made it clear that money is no object. You will be a very rich duo.”  
“You see, gentlemen, the unsold copies of the Nice and Accurate Prophecies were destroyed but the publisher. The books were a flop I’m afraid and the unsold copies were, well, all of them.”  
“But,” Aziraphale interjected, “I found the publisher’s catalog for 1655, and it does list one of Agnes Nutter’s prophecies.”  
“What was it?” Mr. Harmony asked, looking excited.  
“Her prophecy for 1972. ‘Do not buy Betamax.’”  
“Who is Peter Max?” Mr. Golizier asked.  
“We have absolutely no idea.” (Y/N) said.  
“I will pass it on to the Fuehrer.” Mr. Harmony said, taking one of the books from Mr. Golizier.  
“These volumes of prophecy will be in Berlin by the end of the week.” Mr. Golizier said, “The Fuehrer will be most grateful.”  
“You have been exceedingly helpful Mr. Fell and Miss de Angelo.” Mr. Hamrony said as Mr. Golizier coked a gun.  
“Such a pity you two must be eliminated, but take heart, just another death in the Blitz.”  
“You know, Zi-Zi, I don’t think that’s very sporting of these gentlemen.”  
“You do not appear worried my friends.”  
A woman stepped into sight, cocking a gun as (Y/N) pulled out and cocked her’s. The Nazi’s faces fell.  
“They’re not worried.” the woman said, stepping up.  
“She, my doubling dealing Nazi acquaintance, is the reason why none of those books are going back to Berlin, and why your nasty little spy ring will be spending the rest of the war behind bars.” Aziraphale said confidently as the Nazi’s put their hands up, “Let me introduce you to Captain Rose Montgomery of British Military Intelligence.”  
“Thank you for the introduction,” Rose said with a smile.  
“You see, our side knew all about you two. She recruited us to work for you.” (Y/N) said, keeping her gun carefully trained on Mr. Harmony while Rose kept her’s on Mr. Golizier.  
“And now,” Aziraphale said, picking up the narrative, “She’s going to tell you that this building is surrounded by British agents and that you two have been—What is that lovely American expression? Played for suckers.”  
“Yes, about that—” Rose began  
“Right. Everyone! Come one!” Aziraphale called as Mr. Hamrony began to smirk, “Round them up!”  
After a moment Aziraphale asked,  
“Rose, where exactly are your people?”  
“We are all here.” Mr. Hamrony laughed  
“Allow me to introduce,” Mr. Golizier began as Rose turned her gun on (Y/N) who quickly did the same, “Fraulein Greta Kleinschmidt. She works with us.”  
Aziraphale gasped as (Y/N) stood between him and Greta’s gun. Mr. Golizier began speaking in German and (Y/N) was glad she picked up some languages since the little accident in Paris.  
>>You fooled the shithead booksellers. Good job, darling.<<  
>>It wasn’t hard, darling. They’re very gullible.<<  
“‘Played for a sucker.’” Mr. Harmony said, with a smile, “I must remember that. I am played for a sucker, you are played for a sucker, he, she, it...will be played for a sucker.”  
“Now, where were we?” Mr. Golizier asked, “Oh yes. Killing you.”  
“You can’t kill us.”  
“Actually Zi-Zi, I think they can.”  
“But there’ll be paperwork.” Aziraphale protested when a door slammed from the back. Everyone turned their attention to the back of the church as they heard someone gasping as a figure walked rather stiffly towards them.  
“Sorry, consecrated ground,” Crowley said as he approached and (Y/N)’s face brightened slightly, “Oh! It’s like being at the beach in bare feet.”  
“Crow!”  
“What are you doing here?” Aziraphale hissed.  
“Stopping you two getting into trouble.”  
“I should have known. Of course. These people are working for you.”  
“Zi-Zi, for the love of God. Honestly, you think everything bad is Crow’s fault.”  
“Exactly! They’re a bunch of half-witted Nazi spies running around London blackmailing and murdering people. I just didn’t want to see you two embarrassed.” Crowley said, dancing away from them.  
“Mr. Anthony J. Crowley.” Mr. Golizier said, “Your fame precedes you.”  
“Anthony?” (Y/N) asked  
“You don’t like it?”  
“It’s wonderful.”  
“And I’ll...get used to it.”  
“The famous Mr. Crowley? Such a pity you must all die.” Greta said with a smile.  
“What does the ‘J’ stand for?” Aziraphale asked.  
“It’s just a ‘J’ really.” Crowley said before glancing over, “Look at that! A whole fontful of holy water. It doesn’t even have guards!”  
“Crow, since when do you care about holy water?”  
“You didn’t tell her?”  
“Of course I didn’t tell her!”  
“Tell me what?!”  
“Enough babbling. Kill them all.”  
“In about a minute, a German bomber will release a bomb that will land right here. If you all run away very, very fast, you might not die. You won’t enjoy dying, definitely won’t enjoy what comes after.”  
“You expect us to believe that?” Mr. Golizier asked, “The bombs tonight will fall on the East End.”  
“Yes. It would take a last-minute demonic intervention to throw them off course, yes. You’re all wasting your valuable running-away time. And if, in 30 seconds, a bomb does land here, it would take a real miracle for my friends and I to survive it.” Crowley said, giving the angel a pointed look.  
“A real miracle,” Aziraphale said with a nod.  
“Kill them.” Mr. Hamrony said, “They are very irritating.”  
Suddenly a faint whistling filled the air and Crowley pointed up as it grew louder. The Nazis looked up as bombs exploded around them. And then one hit the church.  
Aziraphale, Crowley, and (Y/N) stood unharmed in the rubble as Crowley cleaned off his sunglasses.  
“That was very kind of you,” Aziraphale said.  
“Shut up,” Crowley said, putting his sunglasses back on. (Y/N) smiled, hopping over to the demon.  
“It’s only because he couldn’t survive in a word without us.” she teased, dramatically draping her arms around his shoulders.  
“Well, it was kind. No paperwork for a start, and (Y/N) doesn’t have to be discovered.” Aziraphale said before realization hit him, “Oh the books! Oh, I forgot all the books!”  
“Oh Zi-Zi! I:m so sorry I didn’t even think of them!” (Y/N) said, getting off Crowley and going back over to her other friend.  
“They’ll all be blown to…” Aziraphale stopped as Crowley stooped over and yanked a case from a hand sticking up from the rubble. He handed it over to Aziraphale.  
“Little demonic miracle of my own.” he said, walking away, “Lift home?”  
(Y/N) smiled when she remembered something and jogged to catch up. She quickly matched Crowley’s pace and put a gentle hand on his arm, stopping him.  
“What were you and Zi-Zi talking about earlier, about not telling me something?”  
“It’s—don’t worry about it, Angel.”  
“Crow, I’m not stupid.”  
“I know. I’ll tell you later, okay? The other angel isn’t much of a fan.”  
“Alright. But you have to tell me. Promise?”  
“Yeah, Angel, I promise.”

And then it was 1967 in Soho London.  
(Y/N) watched from the passenger seat of the Bently as a young man spoke to Crowley. She knew he had seen her and could tell he was curious to see what she wanted. The conversation finished and Crowley got into the car, looking over at (Y/N), “What are you doing here?”  
“I heard you were trying to rob a church.”  
“So?”  
“So, it’s dangerous. And just for holy water, which if you aren’t careful with will destroy you completely. Zi-Zi doesn’t think it’s a good idea—”  
“I know what he thinks, he told me 105 years ago.”  
“—but, he agreed to help me get you some.” (Y/N) finished and pulled a thermos from her coat. Crowley stared in shock and (Y/N) began to carefully pass it over before hesitating.  
“You won’t want to hear this Crow, but I’m only giving this to you because I trust you to use it like you said and not as a suicide pill. You’re only getting this because you hold my complete trust. Understand?”  
“Yes.”  
“Good, now be careful. Don’t unscrew the cap,” she said and gently passed it over, Crowley taking it gingerly.  
“It’s the real thing?”  
“Oh, Crow,” (Y/N) said with a small smile, “don’t you trust me? I promised you, and I can promise this is the holiest of holy water.”  
“Well, uh, thank you.”  
“Don’t mention it. I did promise after all.”  
“Yes,” he said before gently putting the holy water away, “you did. Well, Angel, do you need a lift anywhere?”  
“Just my flat.”  
“Oh, come on. Anywhere you want to go.”  
“Not tonight Crow. But maybe someday you, Zi-Zi, and I could go on a picnic or dine at the Ritz. For now, however, my flat will be fine.”  
“Alright,” Crowley said and went to drive away when (Y/N) wrapped him in a tight hug.  
“Promise me you won’t hurt yourself with the holy water Crow.”  
“I promise, (Y/N). Are you, uh, okay?”  
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.” she said, letting him go, “You know I trust you more than anything Crow, right?”  
“I know.”


	3. Chapter Three- The Antichrist

(Y/N) smiled as the Bently came to a stop in front of her, her favorite demon leaning over and pushing open her door.  
“Get in, Angel,” Crowley said as (Y/N) slipped into the passenger seat.  
“What was your meeting about Hellfire?”  
“Damnit, look in the backseat,” Crowley said. The angel turned and grabbed the picnic basket, setting it in her lap, looking baffled.  
“What did they give you a picnic—oh my Lord!” She cried as she opened the basket to see a sleeping baby, “Oh he’s so cute!”  
She gently took the baby from the basket and cradled him in her arms, cooing over him.  
“Look at his little nose!”  
“Shit.”  
“Oh and his tiny hands!”  
“Shit.”  
“And his itty-bitty toes!”  
“Shit.”  
“Oh! His little grasping reflex! What a strong little baby!”  
“Shit!”  
“Crow, watch your language in front of the baby.”  
“Shit!”  
“Crow!”  
“Why me (Y/N)?”  
“I’m sorry Crow, I wish I knew.”  
“Why me?”  
“You earned it Crowley,” a voice said, coming over the radio and Crowley quickly put his fingers over (Y/N)’s mouth, “didn’t you? What you did to the M25 was a stroke of demonic genius, darling.”  
“The M25?” Crowley began as (Y/N) raised an eyebrow, “Yeah, well…Yeah, I’m glad it went down so well.”  
“Here are your instructions. This is the big one, Crowley.” the voice said as something came from the radio and into Crowley. As this was happening (Y/N) saw headlights approaching and yelped, reaching over and yanking the wheel as Crowley snapped out of it. He quickly rightened them on the road as the baby began to cry. (Y/N) quickly began trying to shush it.  
“Angel, are you okay?”  
“I’m fine Crow.”  
“Look at me and tell me you’re okay!”  
“I’m fine Crowley, for God’s sake keep your eyes on the road!” (Y/N) yelped, looking over at her friend. He relaxed considerably as (Y/N) managed to calm the baby, singing along to Crowley’s music.  
“Kid’s got good taste,” he said after a moment.  
“Yeah, kinda makes me wish we could keep him.”  
“You know we can’t do that, Angel.”  
“I know.” she said, pausing for a moment, “But he is cute.”

Crowley pulled up to an abbey where a man stood outside, looking rather nervous. (Y/N) gently put the Antichrist back in his basket and handed it over to Crowley, moving to get out with him.  
“Where are you going, Angel?”  
“I’m going with you of course.”  
“No, you’re not.”  
“What? Why not?”  
“If your people found out that you helped hand-deliver the son of Satan, they would destroy you.”  
“But what if something goes wrong?”  
“Nothing with go wrong, Angel.” Crowley said, pushing her hair from her face, “Don’t you trust me?”  
“More than anything. You promise it won’t go pear-shaped?”  
“Promise,” Crowley said before getting out. (Y/N) waved goodbye to the Antichrist and began her wait for the demon to return.

As the demon drove a dozing angel (who had drifted off while waiting for her friend) back he said as softly as he could,  
“Call Aziraphale.”  
“Calling Aziraphale...Sorry, all lines to London are currently busy.”  
Crowley groaned and (Y/N) jumped awake, blinking as she looked around.  
“Have a nice nap?”  
“Oh, I’m sorry Crow I didn’t mean to doze off.”  
“It’s alright, Angel. You did spend all that time cooing over the son of Satan. It would tire anyone.”  
“Why Crow, you sound jealous.”  
“As if I would be jealous of a baby.” he scoffed, “Now, I need to get ahold of the other angel. So help me look.”  
“This is what you get for your little misadventure today.”  
“Oh shut up.”  
St. James Park was a lovely meeting place and the trio had been using it for longer than any of them knew.  
“You’re sure it was the Antichrist?” Aziraphale asked  
“I should know. I delivered the baby. Well, not ‘delivered’ delivered, you know? Handed it over.”  
“An American diplomat. Really? As if Armageddon were a cinematographic show you wish to sell in as many countries as possible.”  
“The Earth and all the kingdoms thereof.”  
“We will win, of course,” Aziraphale said and (Y/N) groaned.  
“Oh Zi-Zi, not this again.” she sighed as Crowley smirked.  
“You really believe that?”  
“Crow please don’t instigate him.”  
“Obviously. Heaven will finally triumph over Hell. It’s all going to be rather lovely.”  
“Out of interest, how many first-class composers do your lot have in Haven? Because Motzart’s one of ours.” Crowley said, “Beethoven. Schubert. Uh, all of the Bachs.”  
“They have already written their music.”  
“And you’ll never hear it again. No more Albert Hall. No more Glyndebourne.” Crowley said before putting on a mocking voice, “Just celestial harmonies.”  
“Oh, Crow, please don’t remind me. I am not looking forward to that. And imagine everything else we lose. No more little restaurants where they know you. No more Bently. No more feeding the ducks in the park. No more bookshop or perfectly green plants.” (Y/N) sighed  
“Exactly,” Crowley said, getting up. (Y/N) popped up and followed after him, Aziraphale pausing a moment before following suit.  
“We’ve got 11 years and then it’s all over.” Crowley said, “We have to work together.”  
“No,” Aziraphale said after a moment.  
“No? Zi-Zi, why not?”  
“Because.”  
“We can do something. I have an idea.”  
“No! I am not interested.” Aziraphale insisted and began to walk away.  
“Well...what about lunch?” (Y/N) offered, making the angel stop in his tracks, “Crow still owes us one from Paris.”  
“Yes. The Reign of Terror.” Crowley said, walking towards the Bently, “Was that one of ours or one of yours?”  
“Can’t recall.” Aziraphale said before his face lit up, “We had crepes.”  
The three got into the Bently and Crowley promptly sped off to lunch.

Aziraphale finished off his food, humming in contentment.  
“That was scrumptious.” he said, dabbing his mouth with a napkin, “So, what are you in the mood for now?”  
Crowley and (Y/N) shared a glance.  
“Alcohol,” they said as Crowley hit his spoon off his cup.  
“Quiet extraordinary amounts of alcohol.” the demon finished

The three were walking to the bookshop as Aziraphale laid out the options,  
“I have several very nice bottles of Châteauneuf-du-Pape in the back. I picked up a dozen cases in 1921, and there’s still some left for special occasions.”  
“Not very big on wine in Heaven, are they, though?” Crowley asked.  
“Oh yes, no more Châteauneuf-du-Pape in Haven.”  
“Not a single malt scotch, or little...little froufrou cocktails with umbrellas.”  
“Crowley, I’ve told you, we are not helping you.” Aziraphale insisted as they cross the street.  
“We? Since when am I dragged into this?” (Y/N) protested.  
“You’ve bent the rules enough for him already. Besides, we are angels. He is a demon. We’re hereditary enemies.” Aziraphale said, earning looks from his companions, “Get thee behind me, foul fiend. After you.”  
(Y/N) laughed as Aziraphale let them into the shop with a smile.

Six hours later two angels and a demon were still drinking, the demon pouring himself and the female angel drinks.  
“So, what...what exactly is your point?”  
“My point is—” Crowley burped as he staggered about the room, “My point is, dolphins. That’s my point. Big brains, the size of...damn big brains.”  
Crowley took off his sunglasses as he sprawled out on a couch. (Y/N) snatched his glasses and slipped them on, plopping down into her own chair.  
“Oh and the whales. Whales are like...brain city,” she said  
“Kraken.” Aziraphale interjected, “Ooh, great, big bugger. Supposed to rise up to the surface. Right...right up at the end, when the sea boils.”  
“Well, that’s my point. Whole sea bubbling, the dolphins, the whales—”  
“Not the whales.”  
“—Everything’s turning into bouillab—Bouill-bouillab—Bouillab—” Crowley attempted as Aziraphale weakly attempted assistance, “Fish stew. Anyways, it’s not their fault.”  
“Like the ark.”  
“Yeah, just like the ark. And that’s the same with gorillas. They say like, ‘Whoop.’ They say a lot of—of—uh—”  
“Sky’s gone red! There’s...stars crashing down.” (Y/N) said, gesturing erratically as she made explosion noises.  
“And what are they putting in bananas these days?” Crowley added  
“They’re all creatures. Great and small.” Aziraphale said quietly.  
“And you know what’s worse?” Crowley asked.  
“It’s worse?”  
“Yes! Because when it’s all over you’ve got to deal with eternity!”  
“Eternity?” Aziraphale asked sitting up as (Y/N) flipped upside down in her chair.  
“Yeah, it won’t be so bad at first. Although no Stephen Sondheim,” Crowley said, holding up a book, “first nights in eternity I’m afraid. Although, I have heard rumors that your boss really loves The Sound of Music.”  
Aziraphale shook his head and (Y/N) fell out of her chair.  
“I don’t want to spend eternity watching that,” she whined.  
“You could literally climb every mountain over and over and over and over and over and over and over.”  
“I don’t like it any more than you two do, but I told you, we can’t diso—not do what we’re told. We’re angels. We...Oh, God. I can’t cope with this while I’m drunk. I’m going to sober up.”  
“Yeah, me too,” Crowley said  
“Me three.” (Y/N) added. The three creatures forced the alcohol from their bloodstreams, looking around once finished.

“Even if we wanted to help, we couldn’t. We can’t interfere with the Devine Plan.” Aziraphale insisted.  
“Well, what about diabolical plans?” Crowley offered, “You can’t be certain that thwarting me isn’t part of the Devine Plan, too. I mean, you’re supposed to thwart the wiles of the Evil One at every turn, aren’t you?”  
“Well…”  
“See a wile, ya’ thwart. Am I right?”  
“I...Broadly. Actually, I encourage humans to do the actual—”  
“But, Zi-Zi, the Antichrist has been born. And it’s the influences that are important during the upbringing.”  
“The evil influences, and that’s all gonna be me.”  
“It would be too bad if someone made sure he failed.”  
“Well, if you put it that way...Heaven couldn’t actually object if I was thwarting you.”  
“No. Be a real feather in your wing.” Crowley said. Aziraphale sighed and held his hand out, shaking with both Crowley and (Y/N) who smiled.  
“We’d be godparents, sort of, overseeing his upbringing.” (Y/N) said  
“We do it right he won’t be evil. Or good. He’ll just be normal.”  
“It might work.” Aziraphale said with a smile, “Godparents. Well, I’ll be damned.”  
“It’s not that bad when you get used to it,” Crowley said with a smile, making (Y/N) laugh and Aziraphale’s face fall.  
Crowley got up to leave and looked down at (Y/N).  
“Ya know you look real cute in those sunglasses, Angel.”  
“Oh, you think? I got them from a friend.”  
“Yeah, they suit you. Mind if I borrow them.”  
“Oh...I dunno.”  
“I’ll get you a new pair.”  
“Oh, well alright.” (Y/N) said before passing them over with a smile.


	4. Chapter Four-The Raising of Warlock

No one could deny the Dowling’s nanny, gardener, and housekeeper were a strange bunch. The only thing people denied about them was that they were a normal bunch of workers that just so happened to come around at the same time.

The nanny (Nanny Ashtoreth) was a strange woman who’s fashion sense seemed to be closer to that of Mary Poppins and had a more masculine look to her. Not to mention that no matter where she went she always had on round sunglass. Very obviously, this was Crowley and his only experience with British nannies came from the aforementioned Mary Poppins.

The gardener (Brother Francis) was a soft, older-looking man in strange clothes with an overbite. He did his job well, at least he must be doing his job well since all the flowers were always perfectly maintained despite the fact he never seemed to do any work. And much like Crowley, Aziraphale was not the finest at concealing his identity.

And finally, there was the housekeeper. She seemed to be the more normal one of the three, but that didn’t make her normal. Similar to how the nanny wore strictly black and grays and the gardener wore strictly white and off-whites, the housekeeper wore grayscale at all times. She was also strange in how thorough she was in her cleaning, she cleaned things that most people didn’t even know needed to be cleaned. And when she wasn’t keeping the house stunningly clean she was chatting with the gardener or the nanny or little Warlock. She was slightly more subtle than her friends, but (Y/N) often said some rather strange things.

There was no doubt the three were bizarre. But it was a lovely, fascinating sort of bizarre...well at least for little Warlock.

(Y/N) quietly stepped into Warlock’s room to check for her missing broom. She saw it tucked away in the corner, waving at the five-year-old Warlock as she headed towards it.  
“Will you sing me a lullaby, nanny?” Warlock asked, drawing (Y/N)’s attention and making her stop before the door. She looked over, leaning against the wall.  
“Of course, dear.” Crowley said in the Scottish accent he used as Nanny Ashtoreth, “Go to sleep and dream of pain. Doom and darkness. Blood and brains.”  
(Y/N) fought a smile, propping her broom up against the wall and walking over.  
“Silly nanny, you can’t sing Warlock that.” she chastised playfully, “He should be having lovely dreams of being a superhero or a spaceship pilot. Not of pain, blood, and brains.”

“Well then, what would you suggest Miss Ange?” Crowley asked, raising an eyebrow at his friend. She paused, thinking for a moment before sitting down on the edge of Warlock’s bed. She quietly began singing,  
“I left my baby lying there, lying there, lying there. I left my baby lying there. To go ad gather blueberries. Ho-van, ho-van gorry o go, gorry o go, gorry o go. Ho-van, ho-van gorry o go, I’ve lost my dearest baby o.” as she sang Warlock began to drift off and she gently pushed his hair back from his face in a motherly way, “I saw the little yellow fawn, but never saw my baby. I traced the otter on the lake, but could no trace my baby. Ho-van, ho-van gorry o go, gorry o go, gorry o go. Ho-van, ho-van gorry o go, I’ve lost my dearest baby o.”  
She finished singing with Warlock sleeping soundly and she smiled before standing. She grabbed her broom from the wall and waited for Crowley in the doorway. He stood and stopped a little ways away from her, glancing back at Warlock before raising an eyebrow at the angel.  
“So songs about pain, blood, and brains aren’t okay, but songs about a mother losing her child are fine.”

“Shhhh, don’t wake him up.” she said with a smile, “And yes, I had to find a more subtle replacement for your song, Crow.”

“Oh, I see. I need to be more subtle. Told that to Aziraphale yet?”

“I’ve tried, but you’re easier to persuade.”

“Oh,” Crowley said, putting a hand on her waist and pulling (Y/N) flush to his body, “how will you be persuading me?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Hellfire.” she giggled, pulling Warlock’s door closed so they were in the hall, “Maybe you’ll find out someday.”  
She leaned closer and ran her hand down Crowley’s face before snagging his sunglasses and slipping them on, walking away.  
“You still need to get me a pair of these, Crow,” she said over her shoulder, jumping when Crowley gently took her wrist. He leaned down, reaching around her and slipping his sunglasses off her face as (Y/N) felt the breath she didn’t need catch in her throat.  
“Well then, I’ll have to keep up on that,” he said in her ear before letting his loose hold on her wrist go. (Y/N) felt heat creeping up her neck and to her face, forcing a teasing scoff,  
“You’ll only remember if I remind you every day.”

“Then perhaps you’ll have to remind me every day. Good night, Angel.”

“Good night, Crow.” (Y/N) said before hurrying away to put the broom back. She and Crowley had always playfully flirted like that before, but it had never affected her so greatly. It had never felt so real.

“Oh, hello Warlock!” (Y/N) said with a cheerful smile, “Where’s nanny?”

“Shhhh, we’re playing hide ‘n’ kill!” Warlock giggled, “Help me hide!”

“Oh, well okay!” she said, smiling and looking around the lounge. She pointed to the couch, knowing there was a small gap between it and the wall. Warlock’s face little up and he wiggled behind the couch, the couch too close to the floor for Warlock’s feet to be visible. And then Crowley came in, pausing before walking over to (Y/N).  
“Did the kid come through here?”

“Oh, I dunno. I was busy doing my job.”

“I’m sure.”

“Why are you looking for Warlock?” (Y/N) asked, walking around Crowley so his back would be to the couch.

“We’re playing hide ‘n’ kill?”

“How do you play?”

“Well, the hider hides and the seeker seeks, but the hider to trying to ambush to the seeker to kill them and the seeker is trying to find the hider to kill them,” Crowley explained as Warlock wiggled out from his hiding place and tiptoed towards Crowley.  
“Sounds fun.” (Y/N) said, standing on her toes and slipping her arms around Crowley’s neck and adding quietly, “Maybe we should play a game sometime.”

“Oh, you think so, Angel?” Crowley asked smirking as she snaked his arms around her waist as Warlock came up right behind Crowley and (Y/N) smiled.  
“Maybe, but you have to finish your currently little game up first.” she hummed before leaning his close to Crowley’s ear, “And speaking of your game, I think you’ve been ambushed.”

“I’ve killed you, nanny!” Warlock cheered with a big grin. Crowley gave (Y/N) a look of mock betrayal before turning around to face Warlock.

“Well done dear! Why don’t you and Miss Ange look for me next.”

“Yeah! Miss Ange and I will find you in no time nanny!”

“I’m sure. Now you both have to close your eyes and count to twenty and then come find me.” Crowley said and Warlock nodded dutifully, dragging (Y/N) over to the couch and sitting down. He closed his eyes and began to count to twenty, (Y/N) smiling and following suit.  
Once they finished counting Warlock popped up and looked around, “Come on Miss Ange!”

(Y/N) followed behind Warlock as they searched the house for Crowley. After a while of searching, peeking under tables, looking behind tables, and shinning flashlights under beds Warlock looked up at (Y/N) and asked,  
“Are you and nanny girlfriends?”

(Y/N) promptly tripped over her own feet and stumbled a bit as Warlock looked up at her expectantly.  
“N-No Warlock, we aren’t girlfriends.”

“Really? You two hug a bunch.”

“I can promise you Warlock, we aren’t girlfriends,” (Y/N) said with a smile.

“Oh, okay. Well, then you’re my girlfriend now!” Warlock said and (Y/N) chuckled.

“Alright Warlock.” she said before pointing into the next room, “Why don’t you go scout that out room. I bet ‘cha nanny’s in there.”

Warlock nodded with a smile before hurrying into the next room. (Y/N) watched him go, mulling over what Warlock said. It was a bit startling for a five-year-old to randomly ask her if she and Crowley were girlfriends. Of course, he was rather adorable when declaring her his girlfriend. Children were often adorably doing or declaring wacky things.  
(Y/N) jumped and was snapped out of her thoughts as an arm slipped around her waist, pulling her back a little.  
“So, you’ve got a boyfriend now?” Crowley asked and (Y/N) could hear the smile in his voice.

“Why? You jealous?” she teased

“No, but your new little boyfriend will be ever so disappointed to discover you’ve been ambushed.”

“Oh dear, he’ll be devastated.” she giggled, “Guess I need to play dead.”

(Y/N) went limp and Crowley grunted in surprise as he took on her weight.  
“Angel, please.” Crowley sighed, setting her down.

“Oh no! I’ve been ambushed!” (Y/N) called over dramatically and they heard Warlock hurrying towards them.

“Damnit, Angel.”

Eventually, the angels and demon left the Dowling residence. Warlock was a seemingly perfectly normal boy and the trio believed their goal had been achieved. Warlock Dowling was not going to destroy the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As an on and off babysitter I have had two children at two and five declare me their girlfriend. Never lasted lol.


	5. Chapter Five-The Beginning of the End

The first day of the end of the world was a was to be a Wednesday. But two angels and a demon were on edge, watching young Warlock Dowling on a fine Monday. They had six days until the end of the world.

It would have been a perfectly normal Monday for (Y/N), tending to books, chatting with Crowley, sneaking into his apartment to speak kindly to his plants, discuss modern literature with Aziraphale. Instead, she was sitting between the two as they all watched Warlock demand to talk about his birthday and ignore God’s favorite joke.  
“Well, we’ve done everything we can. All we can do now is wait for his birthday. The Hell Hound will be the key. Shows up at three on Wednesday.” Crowley said

“Right,” Aziraphale said

“You know Crow,” (Y/N) began, glancing over at her closest friend and feeling the typical flutter in her stomach when he looked over, “you never did mention a Hell Hound before.”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, they’re sending him a Hell Hound to pad by his side and guard him from all harm.” Crowley said, sounding ever so slightly sheepish, but mostly bored by the information.  
“Oh,” Aziraphale said quietly.

“Biggest one they’ve got.”

“Won’t people remark on the sudden appearance of a huge black dog?” Aziraphale asked, “His parents, for a start?”

“No one will notice anything. It’s reality, angels.” Crowley said, “And young Warlock can do what he likes with that, whether he knows it or not. It’s the start of it all. The boy’s meant to name it. Um...Stalks by Night, Throat Ripper, something like that. But, if we’ve done our job properly, then he’ll send it away unnamed.”

“What if he does name it, Crow? Every young boy wants a dog.”

“Well then, we’ll have lost. He’ll have all his powers and Armageddon will be days away.”

“There must be some way of stopping it,” Aziraphale insisted.

“If there was no boy…” Crowley began.

“Absolutely not.” (Y/N) said smacking Crowley lightly in the arm.

“I’m just saying, it would make the process stop.”

“I’m confused.” Aziraphale pipped up, looking between his two companions.

“Crowley wants one of us, probably you since your the one that’s supposed to be on Earth, to kill him.”

“Well, I mean…I’ve never actually...killed anything,” Aziraphale said after a moment, looking over at Warlock.

“I haven’t either.” (Y/N) said and paused before speaking again, “I don’t think I ever could. Especially not a child.”

“Not even to save everything?” Crowley asked softly, “One life, against the universe.”

“Here lies a difference, Crow. You see one way, one life for the masses, but there is always another course of action.” (Y/N) said, looking over at Crowley with a sad smile. She watched his posture change slightly, though she couldn’t tell if it was discomfort, guilt, or concern.  
“But what if there isn’t?”

“But what if there is? The Hell Hound, for example. What if it never reached Warlock?”

“Yes, I could stop the dog.” Aziraphale said before his whole deminer shifted, “In fact, I could entertain.”

“No, no, no. Please, no. No.” Crowley said quickly as (Y/N) groaned, smiling simply from how excited her friend was despite the fact she was cringing at the thought of Aziraphale’s magic tricks.  
“I just need to get back into practice.”

“Oh, no, no. Don’t do your magic act.” Crowley begged. (Y/N) had buried her face in her hands, leaning against Crowley as she watched through her fingers, laughing. Aziraphale had pulled a coin from his pocket, pinched it between his fingers, plucked it up, and then blew on his hand as he unraveled his fingers, promptly dropping the coin.  
“Please, I’m actually begging you. You have no idea how demeaning that is. Please.” Crowley said, watching Aziraphale. (Y/N) shook her head, still peaking through her fingers at the scene as Aziraphale stooped down to retrieve the runaway coin. As she leaned into Crowley she felt his arm slither around her waist and almost jumped at it. She glanced over to see Crowley’s expression hadn’t changed and he still seemed to be focused on Aziraphale who had pretended to pull the coin from behind Crowley’s ear.  
“In your finger,” Crowley said

“No, it was in your ear.” Aziraphale insisted

“It was in your pocket.”

“It was close to your ear.”

“Never anywhere near my ear,” Crowley said, shaking his head as Aziraphale sat back down.

“Well, (Y/N) likes my magic. Don’t you (Y/N)?”

“If it makes you happy Azzy, I love it,” she said with a smile and Crowley scoffed next to her.

“He can do proper magic.”

“Oh, you’re just no fun Crowley,” (Y/N) teased.

“Fun?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“But he can do proper magic. He can make things disappear.”

“But it’s not as fun,” Aziraphale said

“I’ll make you two disappear,” Crowley said and Aziraphale’s face fell a bit.

“Simply no fun.” (Y/N) giggled, looking over at the demon with a smile.

It was a lovely Wednesday. The perfect day for a party and perhaps the worst day for the end of the world to begin. (Y/N) was a Warlock’s birthday party posing as a caterer with Crowley, who kept repeatedly checking his watch, and watching Aziraphale’s magic show. She noticed that Warlock would give her a strange look every now and then, and she wondered if he remembered her at all. Fond memories of singing him lullabies to replace the demonic ones Crowley sang and playing games with him and Crowley and every now and then when they were completely alone the joking flirting with Crowley. She was snapped out of her thoughts when she heard Crowley counting down under his breath and watched as his watch changed from two fifty-nine to three. She quickly scanned the area, searching for any sign of the Hell Hound...and it never came. Calamity soon ensued as Warlock and his friends took to pelting their “rubbish” (although (Y/N) would never admit to Aziraphale he was horribly out of practice) magician with cake. Crowley and (Y/N) skirted around the edge fo the chaos, miraculously never getting hit with flying desert no matter how close it came to them.  
As they approached the Bently, Aziraphale went on about what a disaster everything was, (Y/N) rather lost in thought. She heard Crowley respond as she got into the passenger seat, watching Aziraphale revive a dove from the corner of her eye. Her attention was caught when Aziraphale spoke again,  
“It’s late.”

“It comes with pulling it up your sleeve,” Crowley said, turning the radio on.

“The Hell Hound, it’s late.” (Y/N) needlessly clarified as Aziraphale got into the back, “And though I hate to say the only two things that could lea—”  
She stopped as the radio warbled and Crowley put his fingertips lightly over her lips, sending butterflies erupting in her stomach at the faint touch as a man’s voice came from the radio.  
“Hello, Crowley.”

“Uh, hi. Who’s this?” he asked, earning a confused look from Aziraphale.

“Dagon, Lord of the Files, Master of Torments.”

“Yeah, just checking about the Hell Hound.”

“He should be with you by now.” Dagon said and the trio shared a look, “Why? Has something gone wrong, Crowley?”

“Wrong? No, no. Nothing’s wrong. What could be wrong? Oh, no, I see him now, yes. What a lovely, big helly Hell Hound. Yes, okay, great talking to you.’ Crowley said before promptly hanging up and looking rather panicked.  
“No dog,” Aziraphale said after a moment.

“No dog,” Crowley repeated.

“Wrong boy,” (Y/N) said, glancing over at Crowley who paused for a moment before looking over at the angels.

“Wrong boy.”

They were in the bookshop, everyone rather one edge was the general populace of mortals passed by outside, completely unaware of the threat looming over them.  
“Armageddon is days away, and we’ve lost the Antichrist.” Crowley said as Aziraphale set out the whiskey glasses, “Why did the powers of Hell have to drag me into this anyway?”

“Well, don’t quote me on this, but I’m pretty sure it’s because of all those memos you kept sending them, saying how amazingly well you were doing.”

“Is it my fault the never check-up?” Crowley asked as Aziraphale set a glass down in front of him, “I’m to blame they never check-up? Everyone stretched the truth a bit in memos to head office. You know that.”

“Yes, but you told them you invented the Spanish Inquisition and started the Second World War.”

“So the humans beat me to it. That’s not my fault.” Crowley said and (Y/N) gently placed a hand on his. Then Crowley stiffened, smelling the air and looking around.  
“Something’s changed.”

“Oh, it’s a ner cologne. My barber suggested it,” Aziraphale said quickly.

“Oh, not you. I know what you smell like.” Crowley said quickly and paused, “The Hell Hound has found its master.”

“I—are you sure, Crow?”

“I felt it.” Crowley said, looking directly at (Y/N), “Would I lie to you? To either of you?”

“Well, obviously. You’re a demon. That’s what you do.” Aziraphale said and it took (Y/N) a moment to tear her gaze from Crowley’s.  
“Really Azzy?”

“I’m not lying. The boy, wherever he is, has the dog. He’s named it. It’s done. He’s coming into his power. We’re doomed.” Crowley said light traces of fear creeping into his voice. (Y/N) slid their hands under the table, giving Crowley’s a light squeeze that he returned before lacing their fingers.  
“Well then...welcome to the end times,” Aziraphale said

By the time Crowley decided to leave he insisted on driving her back to her flat. They stepped into her flat and Crowley took off his glasses, running a hand through his hair.  
“We’re fucked.” he sighed as (Y/N) stepped into the kitchen, grabbing some wine and brownies. She plopped them down on the counter and stepped up to Crowley, taking his hands and running her thumbs over the back of them.  
“We’ll figure it out, Crow,” she promised, pressing a kiss to his knuckles before walking back to the counter and plopping down on one of the barstools. Crowley came over and joined her, staring at the wine glass (Y/N) passed him.  
“How did we lose the Antichrist?”

“I don’t know. We’ll figure it out though.” (Y/N) said, taking Crowley’s hand.

“Are you sure?”

“Would I lie to you?” she asked with a small smile. Crowley sighed, looking away and incredibly tense. (Y/N) cupped his cheek and leaned down to meet his gaze slightly.  
“Hey, I promise we’ll figure it out.”

“We don’t have to. We could run away. Bring Aziraphale. You can pick anywhere you want in the universe, we’ll go.” Crowley said, meeting her eyes and looking hopeful, “Anywhere you want, Angel.”

“I’m already exactly where I want to be. I know you’re scared, I am too, but I swear we’ll figure it out.” (Y/N) said, pushing some of his hair back from his face. Crowley looked at her for a moment, leaning in for half a second before stopping. His eyes darted over her face before he took his wine glass, sipping from it.  
“So this is the end.”

“Yes, I suppose it is.” (Y/N) said, nibbling on a brownie. They sat in silence for a moment, nothing incredibly uncomfortable, but not a comfortable lull of silence they were so often used to.  
“It’s rather late, you could stay overnight if you want.” (Y/N) said suddenly, keeping her eyes trained on the ground. Crowley looked up at her and she nervously met his gaze. He paused for a moment, looking conflicted.  
“I’ll have to pass, Angel,” he said. He pushed her hair back from her face, cupping her cheek for a moment. He leaned forward a little before stopping and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.  
“I should head out. Good night, Angel,” he said, getting up, slipping his glasses on, and heading towards the door.

“Night, Crow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick update, things might get a little slower. I don't have many chapters ready in advance and I'm starting my college classes up again soon so I'll be a little busier than before. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed the chapter!


	6. Chapter Six-The Search

What a lovely Thursday it could have been. Stoping the Hell Hound from reaching the Antichrist on Wednesday and enjoying the rest of Earth’s life with her two friends. Unfortunately, (Y/N)’s day started off with her contemplating her last two days on Earth being cut short by her suddenly needing to hide from two unwanted guests.

The bell to Aziraphale’s book shop dinged and (Y/N) glanced over to see who had happened to stumble into the shop on one of the rare occurrences it was open. All color promptly drained from her face and she ducked behind the counter of the cash register with a muffled squeak when she realized Gabriel and Sandalphon had just entered.  
“Can I help you?” Aziraphale asked and (Y/N) peaked over the top of the counter. Gabriel was holding a book, though (Y/N) seriously doubted he could read it.  
“I would like to purchase one of your material objects,” Gabriel said rather loudly

“Books,” Sandaphon said

“Books,” Gabriel repeated making the hidden angel cringe and drawing several curious glances from the other customers.  
“Let us discuss my purchase in a private place because I am buying, uh…”

“Pornography?” Sandaphon offered and (Y/N) cringed, burying her face in her hands. She knew Aziraphale’s patience must be waning.  
“Pornography.” Gabriel agreed

“Gabriel, come into my back room,” Aziraphale said, looking slightly distressed. Gabriel and Sandaphon began heading towards the back, Gabriel showing off the book as Sandaphon spoke,  
“We humans are extremely easily embarrassed. We must buy our pornography secretively.”

(Y/N) stamped down the cringe and stood up, forcing a false smile.  
“Apologies. Those two are some of our more...eccentric customers. I’m afraid we’ll be closing once they leave. I wish you a good day, but I’m afraid you must go.” she said gently ushering the costumers out, flipping the open sign to closed before retreating to some tucked away corner of the shop to avoid two of the most dangerous creatures to her safety.

She cringed as she heard Gabriel shout thanks for his pornography, perusing the shelves for something to distract her from the two obnoxious creatures intruding upon her life. She paused for a moment, listening for the bell to ring before heading out.  
“Zi-Zi! I’m going to go see Crow!” she called into the shop before vanishing from sight.

She appeared in front of Crowley’s flat and knocked loudly on the door.  
“Crow! It’s (Y/N)!” she called. A moment passed before Crowley opened the door, his body a bit ridged. He moved aside to let the angel in, closing the door a bit loudly behind her.  
“Are you alright, Crow? Zi-Zi got a visit from Gabriel and Sandaphon today and I wanted to check in on you.”

“Oh, I’m fine, yeah. I’m great!” he said quickly, heading through his apartment towards his plants. (Y/N) followed, unconvinced.  
“Crow, what’s wrong?”

“Easy job. Deliver the Antichrist. Keep an eye on him. Nice, straightforward job, eh? Not the kind of thing any demon is going to screw up, right?” he said rapidly again, snatching up the spray bottle he used to water his plants. He began to, rather aggressively spray the plants, walking around the room and examining them. (Y/N) knew what was about to come next.  
“Is that a spot?” he asked and (Y/N) sighed, leaning against the doorframe, “Is it?”  
The plants began to tremble as Crowley’s eyes roamed the room.  
“Right, you know what I’ve told you all about leaf spots. I will not stand for them!” Crowley said, picking up the disorderly plant, “You know what you’ve done. You’ve disappointed me. Oh, dear. Oh, dear. Everyone!”—he held up the perpetrator—"Say goodbye to your friend. He just couldn’t cut it.”  
He walked towards (Y/N) and she pushed off the doorframe and backed into the kitchen.  
“Now, this is going to hurt you so much more than it will hurt me.” he said and turned around to the other plants, “And you guys, grow better!”  
(Y/N) sighed, pity forming in her for these poor plants Crowley put the fear of God into. She supposed it worked, they were the most beautiful plants in London, but also the most terrified.  
As he reached the kitchen (Y/N) snatched the poor plant from Crowley’s hands, removing it from its pot and plopping it in a plastic bag.  
“Give it back.”

“No, I need a new plant anyways.”

“Angel.”

“Please, Crow?”

“...Fine.” Crowley relented and (Y/N) smiled, setting her new plant on the counter as Crowley flipped on the garbage disposal. He waited for a moment before turning it off and walking back into his plant room, (Y/N) close behind. He held up the empty pot and looked around the room before setting it down and returning to his maintenance. When he finished, (Y/N) came up behind him and took his hand.  
“What’s wrong, Crow?”

“Nothing, Angel. Don’t worry about it.”

“If it has you tense and agitated, then I will worry.”

“You aren’t tense and agitated?”

“About what?”

“About the word ending!”

“Of course I am, but we’ll find a way to fix it. You and me and Zi-Zi. Together.”

“It’s not just that.”

“Then what is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Crow.”

“Angel, it’s nothing.”

“Anthony J. Crowley.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Then tell me what has you so tense.”

“I failed! Okay? I was supposed to deliver and keep an eye on the Antichrist, and I failed!”

“Oh, Crow.” (Y/N) said, gently tugging him down to sit on the floor with her, “That’s not your fault.”

“How is it not? I had a job, I didn’t do it, I failed. I’m a failure. And now the world is going to end because of me.”

“Crowley, look at me.” (Y/N) said, taking her demon’s face in her hands, “You are anything but a failure. Mistakes are made, things get confused, but that doesn’t make anyone a failure.”  
Crowley sighed and (Y/N) gently pushed his hair back before taking his hands and rubbing her thumb over the backs of them.  
“Hastur and Ligur paid me a visit today. They’ve scheduled Warlock's family to meet with them. They’re going to find out he’s not to the Antichrist.”

“Is that what has you so tense?” she asked, gently cupping his face in her hand, “That Hastur and Ligur are going to find out?”

“I knew it was coming, but part of me hoped we wouldn’t have any other angels or demons to deal with in our hunt for the actual Antichrist.”

“Well, Zi-Zi is working to...OH!” (Y/N) cried and leaped to her feet, running to Crowley’s phone and dialing the bookshop.

“Hello?”

“Zi-Zi! Be ready, Crow and I are going to come to get you. I think I know a place to look for answers on the missing Antichrist!”

“Oh? What have you thought up?”

“I’ll explain on the way, see you soon Zi-Zi.” (Y/N) said and hung up before turning to Crowley.

“What has that brilliant mind of yours realized?”

“The nuns!”

“What?”

“When they swapped the babies! What if something happened then?” she asked and Crowley’s eyes widened.

Crowley sped down the streets of London, Aziraphale in the backseat as (Y/N) sat up front, gently rubbing her thumb over the back of Crowley’s hand.  
“You’ve lost the boy,” Aziraphale said.  
“‘We’ve’ lost,” Crowley corrected.

“A child has been lost. But, you still know his age—”

“‘We’ know, Zi-Zi.:

“His birthday. He’s eleven.”

“You make it sound easy,” Crowley said

“Well, it can’t be that hard. I just hope nothing’s happened to him.”

“Likewise...he was such a cute baby,” (Y/N) said with a smile.

“Pardon?”

“So I assume.” she said quickly, forgetting her friend had no idea she had been with Crowley to deliver the Antichrist, “All babies are cute babies.”

“Well, most of them. Besides, nothing happens to the Antichrist! He happens to everything.” Crowley said

“So, we only have to find his birth records. Go through the hospital files.”

“And then what?”

“And then we find the child.”

“And then what?” Crowley demanded, earning a gentle squeeze on his hand from (Y/N). Crowley looked over when something caught (Y/N)’s eye.  
“Pedestrian!” she yelped, grabbing the wheel and forcing the car to swerve away from the woman. Crowley quickly straightened the car, looking over at (Y/N).  
“Thanks, Angel.”

“Maybe you should keep your eyes on the road instead of your lovely passenger, Hellfire.” she teased. Crowley smiled a bit, turning his attention back to the road.

“Oh, where is this hospital anyway?” Aziraphale asked, rightening himself from the near-collision.

“A village near Oxford, Tadfield,” Crowley said as Aziraphale leaned forward.

“Crowley, you can’t do ninety miles per hour in Central London!” he said, pointing to the speedometer.

“Why not?” Crowley asked, looking back at the other angel as he took his hand off the wheel.

“You’ll get us killed! Well, inconveniently discorporated. Think of all the problems it would cause (Y/N).” Aziraphale said and Crowley looked over at the angel next to him. He slowed slightly.

“Music. Why don’t I put on a little music? (Y/N) could you hand me some of those CDs?” he asked and the other angel handed them over. Suppressing a smile at her curiosity about how Aziraphale would react to Crowley’s music taste. Aziraphale shuffled through some before stopping.  
“What’s a Velvet Underground?”

“You wouldn’t like it,” Crowley said, shaking his head.

“Oh. Bebop.” Aziraphale said and (Y/N) laughed so loud Crowley swerved to make sure she was okay.  
“What?” Aziraphale asked as Crowley squeezed her hand. She smiled over at the other angel.

“Nothing, Zi-Zi. Don’t ever change.”

The trio drove down a road lined with trees on all sides. (Y/N) had stretched out, scanning the trees as her feet rested in Crowley’s lap, one of Crowley’s hands resting on her legs.  
“This is the Tadfield area. Does it look familiar yet?” Aziraphale asked

“You know, it does.” Crowley said, looking around, “I think there’s an airbase around here somewhere.”

“Airbase?”

“Zi-Zi, you think the wife of an American diplomat usually gives birth in little religious hospitals in the middle of nowhere?”

“It all had to seem to happen naturally, so there’s an airbase at Lower Tadfield. Things started to happen, base hospital isn’t ready. ‘Oh’, our man there said. ‘There’s a birthing hospital just down the road.’ And there we were. Rather good organization.”

“Flawless,” Aziraphale said sarcastically.

“It should have worked, Zi-Zi.”

“Ah, but evil always contains the seeds of its own destruction. No matter how well-planned, how foolproof an evil plan, no matter how apparently successful it may seem upon the way, in the end, it will founder on the rocks of iniquity and vanish.”

“For my money, it was just an ordinary cock-up.”

“Yes, as much as I love humans they tend to fudge things up every now and then.” (Y/N) said, looking around the area. Aziraphale looked rather salty from the backseat, but it wasn’t paid much mind as their hunt continued.

It wasn’t much longer before the arrived at the hospital. Aziraphale got out and (Y/N) leaned over to Crowley with a smile.  
“Should I wait in the car again, Crow? In case my people find out I helped hunt down the Antichrist.”

“Funny, Angel,” Crowley said, getting out and she followed suit. The walked up to the entrance, Aziraphale looking around. Crowley cut across the grass, Aziraphale followed the gravel path, and (Y/N) walked along the brick edging separating the path and the grass, trying to balance.  
“Don’t fall, Angel,” Crowley said as he passed behind her, falling in step beside her as they approached the gates. Aziraphale continued to look around and asked,  
“Are you sure this is the right place? This...This doesn’t look like a hospital. And…”  
He stopped, holding an arm up to stop his companions. (Y/N) felt it too, though perhaps not as strongly as Aziraphale (she wasn’t as in-tune with such things.)  
“It feels loved.”

“No,” Crowley said, glancing around, “it’s definitely the place. What do you mean loved?”

“Well, I mean the opposite of what you say, ‘I don’t like this place. It feels spooky.’” Aziraphale said and (Y/N) giggled.  
“I don’t ever say that.”

“Yeah, Zi-Zi. He likes spooky,” (Y/N) teased.

“Yes, big spooky fan, me, Let’s go talk to some nuns,” Crowley said, sauntering through the gates, (Y/N) next to him with Aziraphale close behind. And then suddenly they were hit. Aziraphale jumped a bit, turning as Crowley doubled over, stumbling back. (Y/N) turned her attention to him, lucky enough to be missed, but just barely as something yellow splattered on the gate’s arch behind her. Crowley touched where he had been hit and help up a red-stained hand.  
“Blue?” Aziraphale asked as he took his hand from his back, his fingers now stained with the color.

“Oh, it’s paint.” Crowley said, looking over at the unhit angel, “Why’d you get off scot-free?”

“Bad shot?” she offered, motioning to the splatter of yellow behind them.

“Hey!” a voice called out and the supernatural trio turned towards the source.

“You’ve been hit!” a man said as he approached with a scoff, “I don’t know what you think you’re playing at right—”’  
Crowley turned his face into a horrific creature for a moment before it vanished. The man screamed and promptly fainted as Crowley smiled, “Well, that was fun.”

“Yes, fun for you. Look at the state of this coat.” Aziraphale said, reaching for the splotch of blue on his back, “I’ve kept this in tip-top condition for over one hundred eighty years now. I’ll never get this stain out”  
His friends moved to see the damage and (Y/N) furrowed her brow.  
“You could miracle it away, Zi-Zi.”

“Hmmm...yes but...well, I would always know the stain was there.” he said, turning a bit as Crowley made a pouty face, “Underneath, I mean.”

Crowley looked at the paint, sizing it up for a moment, before blowing on it as Aziraphale and Crowley’s paint splotches vanished.  
“Oh, thank you,” Aziraphale said, looking rather pleased before heading towards the unconscious man, “Impressive hardware.”  
He picked up the paintball gun, examining it.  
“I’ve looked at this gun.” he said after a moment, “It’s not a proper one at all. It just shoots paintballs.”  
(Y/N) tried her best to look surprised at Aziraphale’s explanation, but Crowley snatched it away, pointing it at Aziraphale as he spoke,  
“Don’t you lot disapprove of guns?”

“Unless”—Crowley aimed the gun at (Y/N) who gave him a mock look of fear in response— "they’re in the right hands. Then they give weight to a moral argument...I think.”

“A moral argument?” Crowley asked with a smile as he lowered the gun, “Really?”

He tossed it back to the unconscious man and began walking inside, (Y/N) following and stepping over the man on the ground.  
“Come on,” Crowley said.

“This is definitely the place,” Crowley said as they walked in and wandered through the halls, “Wonder where the nuns went.”

Crowley grabbed a brochure from a display and opened it, (Y/N) peering over his shoulder. Though Crowley quickly deemed it worthless and tossed it aside, (Y/N) catching it and dropping it in a trashcan. Aziraphale said he was going to go look for someone with answers and hurried ahead. Before the remaining two could follow a woman with a thick accent ran into the room.  
“Millie from accounting caught me in the elbow. Who’s winning?”

“You’re all going to lose,” Crowley said rather bluntly and snapped his fingers. The sound of gunfire sounded from outside and (Y/N) looked out the nearby window.  
“Crow, what did you just do?” she asked as a smirk bloomed on her companion’s face.

“Well,” he began, “they wanted real guns so I gave them what they wanted.”

(Y/N) smacked him in the arm, “Crow! They’re shooting at each other.”

“Well, as Aziraphale said it ‘lends weight to their moral argument.’ And they all have free will, including the right to murder. It’s like a microcosm of the universe.”

“Crow, they’re murdering each other.”

“No,” he sighed, “No one’s killing anyone, Angel. They’re all having miraculous escapes. It wouldn’t be any fun otherwise.”

(Y/N) chuckled as they stopped, lightly elbowing her friend.  
“Oh Crow, I always knew you were a nice—” she began and was promptly cut off as she was pushed against the wall, Crowley loosely holding her by her jacket collar.  
“Shut it.” he hissed as he got nose-to-nose with the angel, “I’m a demon. I’m not nice. I’m never nice. Nice is a four-letter word. I will not have you going around calling me nice where someone can hear you.”

She knew Crowley had no ill will behind his little show and (Y/N) gently lifted his sunglasses a bit to meet his eyes. He was trying to look angry, though he wasn’t very successful.  
“What if I said your eyes were nice, Hellfire?”

“Oh, shut it, Angel,” Crowley said, the faux venom leaving his voice as (Y/N) playfully slipped her arms loosely around Crowley’s neck.  
“And you said where someone could hear me call you nice. What if we’re alone?” she teased.

“Don’t try to find—”

“Excuse me, you two.” a woman’s voice said and the two turned their gazes down the hall to see Aziraphale walking towards them with a woman. They quickly separated as Aziraphale stared at them with wide eyes.  
“Sorry to break up and intimate moment, but your friend said you needed help with something.”

The woman and Crowley froze, staring at each other.  
“You,” Crowley said

“Saints and demons preserve us, it’s Master Crowley.” the woman said, backing up. Crowley snapped his fingers and the woman froze.  
“You didn’t have to do that.” Aziraphale said, “You could have just asked her.”

“Oh...” Crowley said, looking at him with raised eyebrows, “of course, of course. No, Yeah. ‘Excuse me, ma’am, we’re three supernatural entities just looking for the notorious Son of Satan. Wonder if you might help us with our inquiries?’”

(Y/N) gave him a light nudge, smiling at him before walking up to the woman.  
“Where you a nun here eleven years ago?” she asked politely as the men walked up behind her.

“I was.”

“What happened to the baby I gave you?” Crowley asked.

“I swapped him with the son of the American ambassador. Such a nice man, He used to be ambassador to Swindon. Then Sister Theresa Garrulous came and took the other baby away.”

“This American ambassador, what was his name, where did he come from, and what did he do with the baby?”

“I don’t know.”

“Records!” Aziraphale said, “There must have been records.”

“Yes. There were lots of records. We were very good at keeping records.”

“Lovely, and where are they?” (Y/N) asked as Crowley leaned over her shoulder, eager for this problem to be solved.

“Burned in the fire.” the ex-nun answered and Crowley growled.

“Hastur!”

“Oh, alright then. Is there anything you remember about the baby?” (Y/N) asked, putting a gentle hand on Crowley’s arm.

“He had lovely little toesie-woesies.”

“Aw, he did, didn’t he.” (Y/N) said with a smile as Crowley tugged at her arm.

“Let’s go, Angel.”

“You will wake, having had a lovely dream about whatever you like best,” Aziraphale said before snapping his fingers and following his retreating companions.

Police surrounded the paintball players turned near murders, completely ignoring the angels and demon that strolled past them.  
“You’d think he’d show up, wouldn’t you?” Aziraphale asked, “You think we could detect him in some way.”

“He won’t show up. Not to us. Protective camouflage.” Crowley explained as police confiscated the deadly paintball guns, “He won’t even know it, but his powers will keep him hidden from prying occult forces.”

“Occult forces?”

“Us, Zi-Zi. Angels and demons and the like.”

“(Y/N) and I are not occult. Angels aren’t occult. We’re ethereal.” Aziraphale said determinedly. The trio got in the car and Crowley sped away, leaving the chaos they caused behind them.  
“Oh, yes, why were the police there?” Aziraphale asked and the two creatures in the front shared a grin.

The sun was setting as they drove back home, trying to figure out how to locate the missing Antichrist.  
“Is there any other way to locate him?” Aziraphale asked

“How the heaven should I know? Armageddon only happens once, you know.” Crowley said, “You don’t get to go round again until you get it right. But I know one thing, if we don’t find him it won’t be the war to end all wars. It’ll be the war to end everything.”

(Y/N) reached over a put a hand on Crowley’s knee. Crowley took a hand off the wheel and laced his fingers with the angels, his driving becoming slightly less erratic. They drove in silence a bit longer, the sun sinking lower on the horizon as they went.  
“There’s a very peculiar feeling to this whole area.” Aziraphale said, “I’m astonished you can’t feel it, especially you, (Y/N).”

“I don’t feel anything out of the ordinary,” Crowley said

“And I’m not as in tune with these things as you Zi-Zi.”

“But it’s everywhere. All over here.”

“I do feel something, a little bit. I know it’s strong, I suppose.”

“Love.” Aziraphale said after a moment, “Flashes of love.”

“You’re being ridiculous.” Crowley said, “The last thing we need right now is—”

And then they hit a woman on a bike.

Crowley stopped the Bently and they all stared ahead in shock.  
“You hit someone,” Aziraphale said.

“I didn’t. Someone hit me.” Crowley argued.

“Technically, according to physics and such, you hit each other. Now can we go check on the human we hit or are we just going to bicker like children?” (Y/N) asked, getting out and heading down towards the woman. She was sprawled out on the ground, seeming disoriented. (Y/N) scrambled down the hill as Aziraphale got out and snapped his fingers, “Let there be light.”

A bright light appeared above him as (Y/N) crouched down next to the woman, who seemed surprised by the sudden light above them.  
“How the hell did you do that?” the woman asked. (Y/N) heard another snap as the light vanished, but was more concerned with the woman.  
“Are you alright?” she asked, holding up three fingers, “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Uh, I don’t know. I think I hit my head.” the woman said as Aziraphale joined (Y/N). He let his hand hover over any injuries and healed them.  
“There we are, no bones broken.”

As Crowley repaired the Bently, (Y/N) helped the woman up the hill.  
“My bike,” she said feebly and Aziraphale turned around, picking it up and miracle-ing it back into proper condition. Aziraphale wheeled it up the small hill the woman had been flung down as he spoke,  
“Amazingly resilient, these old machines.” Aziraphale said as the woman fixed her glasses on her face, “Where do you need to get to?”

“No, no, we’re not giving her a lift.” Crowley said walking up, “That’s out of the question. There’s nowhere to put the bike.”

“Oh, but have you forgotten about the bike rack, Crow?” (Y/N) asked, glancing towards the back of the car as she moved to stand beside Crowley. The demons turned before frowning at the angel beside him.  
“Please, do get in Miss…”

“Anathema, Anathema Device.” the woman said, giving the trio a strange look. She moved towards the car, Crowley and (Y/N) stepping out of her way.  
“So, where are we taking you?” Crowley asked.

“Back to the village. I’ll give you directions.” Anathema said as Crowley made a face as his angelic companions.

Most of the way to the village “Bicycle Race” blasted over the Bently’s radio. Anathema looked back at her bike before looking between Aziraphale, who was beside her, and the pair in the front.  
“Listen, my bike, it didn’t have gears. I know my bike didn’t have gears.” she said before pointing up ahead, “Make a left.”

“Oh, Lord, heal this bike,” Crowley said as (Y/N) corrected the little gears incident for Aziraphale.

“I got carried away,” Aziraphale said under his breath as Anathema pointed ahead.

“Oh, you can drop me off here.”

Crowley stopped in front of a quaint cottage and Anathema climbed out with her belongings, Aziraphale having already gotten out to help her from the car and lean her bike against the stone wall around the cottage. Anathema stopped staring at her bike before looking back and forth between the bike and Aziraphale.  
“Oh, look, no gears. Just a perfectly normal velocipede.”

“Bicycle, Zi-Zi.” (Y/N) said as she and Crowley got out to examine the bike.

“Can we go now? Get in, angels.” Crowley said, getting in. The two angels got into the car as Anathema rushed towards the gate to her cottage as the trio sped away.

They had stopped in a diner so Aziraphale could eat, (Y/N) electing not to have anything and Crowley joining her on the decision.  
“You know,” Aziraphale began, pausing on his pie, “we might get another human to find him.”

“What?” Crowley asked.

“Humans are good at finding other humans.”

“I’m sorry, have you not heard of the numerous cold cases throughout history, Zi-Zi?”

“They’ve been doing it for thousands of years.” Aziraphale continued, ignoring the comment, “And the child is partly human. Other humans might be able to sense him.”

“He’s the Antichrist. He’s got an automatic defense thingy. Suspicion slides off him like...whatever it is water slides off.”

“Ducks?” (Y/N) offered and Crowley snapped his fingers.

“Yes, those.”

“Got any better ideas?” Aziraphale asked, “Or one single, better idea?”

The car ride was mostly quiet, (Y/N) stretched out across the front seat again with her feet in Crowley’s lap and his arm draped across her legs as she began to doze against the window.  
“There’s something I should tell you,” Aziraphale said, breaking the silence. Crowley turned to look at him as (Y/N) gave a soft hum of recognition.  
“I have a…'network’ of highly trained human agents spread across the country. Now, I could set them searching for the boy.”

“You do? I actually—I actually have something similar.” Crowley said, “Human operatives.”

“Hmmm, you two should just have them work together.” (Y/N) mumbled.

“Oh, I don’t think that’s a very good idea.” Crowley said, “My lot are not very sophisticated, politically speaking.”

“No, no, neither are mine. So we tell our respective operatives to look for the boy? Unless you have a better idea?”

“Sleep, that’s a good idea,” (Y/N) yawned, rolling over a bit.

Crowley eventually stopped in front of Aziraphale’s shop, motioning for the angel to be quiet for the dozing one in the front.  
“You know, if you lined up everyone in the whole world and asked them to describe the Velvet Underground, nobody would say ‘bebop.’” Crowley said. Aziraphale rolled his eyes and climbed out when something caught his eye.  
“Oh, there’s a book back here.”

“Well, it’s not mine. I don’t read books, (Y/N) reads them aloud to my plants and I eavesdrop.”

“Well, it has to belong to the young lady you hit with your car.”  
“I’m in enough trouble as it is. I’m not going to start returning lost property.” Crowley said as Aziraphale picked up the book, “That’s what your lot do. Why don’t you just send it to the Tadfield post office, addressed to “the mad American woman with the bicycle’?”

“Oh, uh…” Aziraphale said, tearing his eyes away from the book cover, “jolly good, yes. Rather.”

“Right, so we’ll both contact our respective human operatives, then?”

“All right,” Aziraphale said, getting out and closing the door. Crowley rolled down his window as the angel approached the bookshop.  
“Are you alright?”

“Perfectly, yes. Uh, tip-top. Absolutely tickety-boo.”

“Tickety-boo?”

“Mind how you go,” Aziraphale said before entering his bookshop and closing the door. Crowley shrugged it off, still a little baffled and rolled up the window before driving off.

When he arrived at (Y/N)’s flat he paused outside, glancing over at the sleeping angel. He moved to wake her up but stopped. He hadn’t;t said anything to her about it before, but since this ordeal with finding the Antichrist started she had seemed so tense and on edge. And yet she tried so hard to keep him looking on the bright side and from snapping at people. Now that she was sleeping, she finally looked relaxed and at peace. He gently pushed some of her hair from her face before driving off towards his flat, deciding he would be on the couch that night.

Crowley carried (Y/N) into his flat, trying not to disturb her. He walked back to his bedroom, setting the angel down on his bed and removing her shoes, glad to see they were actual shoes and not just her shaping her feet to look like shoes. He sat by her for a moment, his gaze lingering on her face before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead,  
“Goodnight, Angel,” he said before getting up and turning off the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long loves! School has kept me busy, but I finally finished writing chapter six! I hope you enjoy it!


	7. The Day Before the End

When (Y/N) woke up on the Friday before the end of the world she was a little confused as to where she was. She was certainly not in her flat, but it was familiar. And then Crowley peered into the room.  
“Good morning, Angel.”

“Good morning, Crow. How did I get here?”

“Oh,”—Crowley’s ears turned a bit red though he tried to play it off—“you were out cold last night and it was easier to just carry you here than to wake you up and make sure you got to your flat.”

“Oh, well thank you.”

“Of course, Angel. I’ve just been trying to figure out how to find the missing Antichrist.”

“Nothing as of yet?”

“No,”

“That’s a shame. Are my books still here?”

“Of course, Angel.”

“Lovely, I’m going to read to the plants while we wait,” she said, getting out of bed and selecting a book before sitting down in the middle of the room with the plants. She opened up to where she had left off the last time she had read aloud to the plants.  
“Chapter forty-five,” she began in a narrator voice, “Convinced as Elizabeth now was that Miss Bingley’s dislike of her had originated in jealousy, she could not help feeling how unwelcome her appearance was at Pemberley must be to her, and was curious to know with how much civility on that lady’s side, the acquaintance would now be renewed.”

Crowley listened patiently for a moment as she read before jumping up and pacing the flat. As (Y/N) described Elizabeth’s excursion at Pemberley, Crowley impatiently paced around her wondering about the Antichrist. Finally, as (Y/N) began chapter forty-six Crowley strode over to his phone and dialed a number (Y/N) could only assume was Aziraphale.  
“Any news? Found the missing Antichrist yet?” Crowley asked and (Y/N) paused her reading, peering into the other room.

“Oh, no news here either. Call me if you find anything.” Crowley said and then gave the phone a rather confused look. He came back into the room and sat down next to (Y/N) again. She raised an eyebrow at her friend who shook his head.  
“Nothing on Aziraphale’s end.”

“Hm. Have you spoken to your informant yet?”

“We’re having lunch together.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t be opposed to me joining you, would you?”

“Not at all, Angel.”

“Thank you, Crow.” she said before opening her book again and smiling at the demon, “Shall we continue?”

“By all means, Angel. You read beautifully,” he said before leaning back to listen to (Y/N) continue her reading to the plants.

(Y/N) and Crowley waited in a small, nondescript diner as they waited for Crowley’s informant to arrive. Crowley had insisted on facing the door and took the chair closest to it, reading the newspaper with his back to (Y/N). This wasn’t a huge downside, however, as it allowed her to peer at the newspaper over his shoulder. Finally, someone entered and approached their table. He was an older gentleman in a military-style jacket with a bag slung over his shoulder.  
“Sergeant Shadwell.”

“Mr. Crowley. You’re looking well. Who’s your companion?”

“Ms. (Y/N) DiAngelo. An associate of mine.”

“It’s a pleasure, Sergeant.”

“Likewise. How’s your father, Mr. Crowley, is he well? You resemble him very much you know.”

“So they tell me. Yeah, he’s well.”

“I’ve prepared the ledger.” Shadwell said, pulling out a rather large notebook and opened it on the table, “The men need paying, Your Honor. It’s hard times for Witchfinders in today’s degenerate age.”  
Crowley looked up as Shadwell turned to book to him and shook his head slightly as he spoke,  
“That won’t be necessary. Two hundred and fifty pounds. I’ll drop the money off for you on Saturday.”

“Only in cash, in an envelope.” Shadwell insisted as he closed the book, “Don’t take plastic.”

‘You astonish me.” Crowley said plainly as Shadwell’s face fell slightly.

“So…”

“There’s a village called Tadfield, in Oxfordshire. Send your best people down there. I’m looking for a boy. He’s about eleven. I don’t have anything more than that. But look for anything...strange.”

“This, uh, boy...he’s a witch?”

“Possibly. We’ll have to find him first, won’t we?”

“Aye. Well, my best operative, that would be Witchfinder Lieutenant Table.” Shadwell said as Crowley got up, (Y/N) following suit.  
“Call me if you find anything.”

“It was a pleasure, Sergeant. Have a nice day.” (Y/N) said as they left the diner.

(Y/N) and Crowley waited in the bandstand for Aziraphale. (Y/N) was enjoying the lovely weather, leaning over the railing as she watched for her old friend’s approach. She finally spotted him hurriedly walking through the trees towards them. She stood as Crowley walked over to join her.  
“Well?” he asked as Aziraphale approached, “Any news?”

“Um...What-what kind of news would that be?”

“Well, have you found the missing Antichrist’s name, address, and shoe size yet?”

“His shoe size? Why-why would I have his shoe size?”

“It’s a joke, Zi-Zi.” (Y/N) reassured.

“I’ve got nothing either.”

“It’s the Great Plan, you two.”

“Yeah. For the record, great pustulent mangled bollocks to the Great blasted Plan!” Crowley yelled, pacing around the bandstand.  
“May you be forgiven,” Aziraphale said and Crowley spun around.

“I won’t be forgiven. Not ever. That’s part of a demon’s job description. Unforgivable. That’s what I am.”

“You were an angel once.”

“That was a long time ago,” Crowley said, shaking his head and (Y/N) gently took his hand behind her back and gave it a light squeeze. Crowley seemed to relax ever so slightly, “We find the boy. My agents can do it.”

“And then what, Crow? Are we to eliminate him?”

“Someone does. I’m not personally up for killing kids.”

“Well you’re the demon, (Y/N) and I are the nice ones.” Aziraphale said quickly, “I don’t have to kill children. If you kill him then the world gets a reprieve and Heaven does not have blood on its hands.”

“Heaven doesn’t have blood on its hands? Heaven doesn’t have blood on its hands? Don’t keep up such a holier-than-thou attitude when Heaven has wiped out entire cities! When Heaven has sent its people to kill first-born sons in Eygpt! When heaven has killed forty-two children with two bears for making fun of a prophet! Heaven’s hands are soaked in blood, Zi-Zi, you’re just to blind to see it.”

“But it was for good reason! A holy purpose.”

“Well then, you should just kill him yourself then. I can’t think of a better reason than saving the world. And do it holi-ly while you’re at it.”

“I am not killing anybody.” Aziraphale insisted, staring at (Y/N) in mild surprise.

“This is ridiculous. You are ridiculous.” Crowley said, “I don’t even know why I’m still talking to you.”

“Well, frankly, neither do I.”

“Enough, I’m leaving,” Crowley said, beginning to walk away.

“You can’t leave Crowley. There isn’t anywhere to go.” Aziraphale said and Crowley stopped, turning around as he threw his arms up.  
“It’s a big universe. Even if this all ends up in a puddle of burning goo, we all can go off together.”

“Go off together?” Aziraphale said and sighed, “Listen to yourself.”

“How long have we all been friends? Six thousand years!”

“Friends? We’re not friends. We are two angels and a demon. (Y/N) and I have nothing whatsoever in common with you. I don’t even like you.”

“You do too, Zi-Zi.”

“Even if I did know where the Antichrist was, I wouldn’t tell you. We’re on opposite sides.”

“Opposite sides? This is OUR side, Zi-Zi!”

“There is no ‘our side’, (Y/N)! Not anymore. It’s over. No more us and Crowley. Now it’s Heaven and Hell. Us. Crowley.”

“Right.” Crowley said seeming hurt, “Well, then…”  
Crowley began to walk off and (Y/N) stood rooted in place for a moment, looking between her two friends.  
“Have a nice Doomsday,” he added, looking over his shoulder before walking off.

“Crow!” (Y/N) called, starting after him as tears welled in her eyes, “Crowley, come back!”  
But he didn’t turn back. (Y/N) wasn’t sure if he was ignoring her or just couldn’t hear her, but either thought made her choke back a sob. She looked back at Aziraphale and tried to swallow the lump in her throat.  
“I-I’m going back to the shop,” she managed and stormed off, wiping her face as she left.


	8. Chapter Eight-The Tadfield Air Base

(Y/N) was curled up in a chair in the shop, reading as she tried to hide her sniffles in a rather large mug of tea. She couldn’t properly focus on the words as she mulled over what had happened between Aziraphale, Crowley, and herself yesterday. It was no way to spend her Saturday, certainly no way to spend the last day of the world, but it simply was what it was. She desperately wanted to see Crowley but was worried he would be upset with her for not better defending him. She should have tried harder, she should have calmed them down, there were a great deal of things she should have done and her mind had touched upon all of them.  
She sighed, starting her page again as she ran a hand down her face. She had been carried away by her thoughts again. She swallowed the lump forming in her throat as she thought back to Crowley walking away, not even flinching as she called out for him.  
She jumped as Aziraphale opened the door to the shop and looked up.  
“I encountered Crowley while I was out,” he said and (Y/N) perked up.

“And?”

“He said we could still run away with him. I told him no,”

“Oh.”

“And...well...Heaven knows. About you and our dealings with Crowley.”

“W-What.”

“I don’t know how, but they do know.”

“Oh my—I can’t stay here. I-I need to-to—Oh my God.”

“It’ll be quiet alright, (Y/N).” Aziraphale said, closing the blinds to the shop, “I’ll speak to a higher authority than Gabriel and sort this all out.”

“I...I think I need to go lay down,” she said, disappearing into the back of the shop. Per her request, Aziraphale had made a little lounge area for her to relax in every now and then, and in this little nook was a small couch covering in blankets and pillows. She fell back onto it, shaking. Maybe she could go to Crowley, ask for him to take her with. Maybe she could run away alone. She could hear Aziraphale trying to contact a “higher authority” in the other room and covered her head with a pillow. She couldn’t stand to hear the conversation. She loathed the other angels. She heard yelling in the other room and stifled a groan. She wasn’t sure what was going on but had no interest in finding out and dealing with other angels at the moment. And that’s when she smelled it. Burning paper. She shot up, finally realizing how hot the shop was and panicked, racing into the main area.  
“Aziraphale!” she called out, stumbling back as she saw the bookshelves ablaze, their contents feeding the flames that crawling up the wooden interior of the shop. She ran back to where Aziraphale’s circle was, but was blocked back a wall of flames. She cursed, turning around to escape the building and call for help when a shelf nearby groaned and tipped over, knocking her to the floor where she smacked her head and fell unconscious.

When she came to, (Y/N) smelled of smoke and was in a very familiar bed. She slowly sat up, her head pounding as she looked around, jumping when she saw Crowley staring at her. He was holding an empty bottle of...something (she didn’t care enough to read to the label) and his glasses were gone. He slowly reached out, hesitating before he touched her face.  
“Crow?” she croaked and was surprised when she was pulled into a hug. She didn’t hesitate in hugging him in return, slowly running her hand up and down his back, soothingly.  
“I thought I lost you, Angel. I—” he stopped himself, burying his face in the crook of her neck. His voice seemed so raw.

“I’m alright, Crow, I’m right here.”

“I couldn’t find Aziraphale and you were just collapsed on the floor and I didn’t know what to do. I was worried about losing my best friends. Where is Aziraphale?” he asked, finally letting (Y/N) go and holding her a short distance away.

“I-I don’t know. He was going to talk to the higher-ups because...the other angels found out about me and how Aziraphale and I work with you,” she said, trembling slightly. Crowley gently cupped her cheek, tensing slightly.  
“Hey, it’ll be okay, Angel. We’ll figure things out,”

(Y/N) wrapped Crowley in another hug, still shaking, but relaxed slightly. Then lightning crackled outside, thunder booming not long after and (Y/N) jumped, pulling away from Crowley to look out the window, but letting her hands fall into his.  
“Aziraphale?” Crowley asked and (Y/N) quickly turned her attention to the demon, following his gaze and gasping. Sitting on the foot of the bed, was Aziraphale. A rather translucent Aziraphale, but Aziraphale.  
“Zi-Zi? Are you here?”

“Not certain. Never done this before.” he admitted, looking around nervously, “Can you hear me?”

“Of course we can hear you,” Crowley said, seeming rather shocked.

“Afraid I’ve rather made a mess of things. Did you go to Alpha Centauri?”

“Nah, I changed my mind. Stuff happened. I lost one of my best friends. And I almost lost the other.”

“I’m so sorry to hear it. Listen, back in my bookshop there’s a book I need you to get.”

“Oh, Zi-Zi. Your bookshop was burned down. I’m so sorry.” (Y/N) said, blinking back tears as the truth finally hit her. Some many lovely memories turned to ash. Thunder rumbled in the distance as Aziraphale took in the news.  
“All of it?” he asked.

“M-uh-mm. Yeah. What—what was the book?” Crowley managed

“The one the young lady with the bicycle left behind. The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of—”

“Agnes Nutter!” Crowley cried, grabbing a book from the floor, “Yes, I took it!”

“Oh my God, Crow I could kiss you!”

“You have it?” Aziraphale asked perking up as (Y/N) face lit up. Crowley held it up, showing it off to the two angels.  
“Look, souvenir!”

“Look inside. I made notes. It’s all in there. The boy’s name, address. Everything else. I worked it all out.”

“Zi-Zi, we’ll come to get you. Where are you?”

“I-I-I’m not really anywhere yet. I’ve been discorporated.”

“Oh.” Crowley and (Y/N) said in a more serious tone.

“You two need to get to Tadfield Air Base.”

“Why?” Crowley asked.

“World ending. That’s where it’s all going to happen. Quite soon now. I’ll head there too. I just need to find a receptive body. Harder than you’d think.”

“I’m not going to go there,” Crowley said quietly.

“I do need a body. Pity I can’t inhabit one of yours. Angel, demon, even two angels, probably explode.”

“Blehhh.”

“So I’ll mee you two at Tadfield. But we’re all gonna have to get a bit of a wigg;e-on.”

“What?”

“A wiggle-on?”

“What’s a wiggle-on?” Crowley asked as Aziraphale faded from view. More lightning crackled in the distance, thunder rumbling right after. A moment passed and (Y/N) slipped off of the bed, pulling Crowley to his feet.  
“So about what you said.”

“What did I say?”

“About kissing me,” Crowley teased and (Y/N)’s face flushed.

“Later, lover-boy.”

“What if there isn’t a later?” he asked and (Y/N) hesitated before pecking his cheek.

“You can get a real one once we save the world,” she said before heading out the door.

(Y/N) nervously drummed her fingers on the dash of Crowley’s Bently as they tried to navigate a traffic jam that was preventing their departure from London to get to an Adam Young in Tadfield.  
“This is the biggest traffic jam in England’s history.” a radio said in a faux cheery voice.

“Why?” Crowley asked, fed up with their slow pace.

“What you did to the M25 was a stroke of demonic genius darling.” Satan’s voice said over the radio.

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no.” Crowley groaned as the barely trudged forward in the traffic. Horns honked around them as people impatiently waiting for things to start moving. And then, the M25 spontaneously caught fire. Crowley growled as (Y/N) stared in shock.  
“Right. The M25 is now an impassable burning ring of infernal fire, and that’s my fault. Come on, Tadfield. Tadfield. Tadfield.” Crowley pulled out from behind the other cars and sped down the shoulder of the road. He passed The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter over to (Y/N) as he drove.  
“Look for a way around it. Burning roads or something. Maybe Agnes predicted it,” he said. (Y/N) took the book, skimming the pages as they drove, but nothing caught her eye. Crowley finally stopped a short distance away from the wall of flames and (Y/N) moved closer so they were shoulder-to-shoulder and put half the book in Crowley’s lap.  
“Help me look,” she said.

“Why isn’t there an index,” Crowley muttered after flipping through a couple of pages when a hand reached across (Y/N) and pulled his glasses off. The angel suppressed a yelp, grabbing Crowley’s hand and gave it a light squeeze as Hastur crushed the glasses. Crowley grimaced as he did so, both he and (Y/N) leaning away from the Duke of Hell.  
“You and your little angel will never escape London.” he said, “Nothing can.”

“Hastur. How was your time in voicemail?” Crowley asked, slipping an arm around (Y/N)’s waist and pulling her closer as he leaned forward to look at the other demon.  
“Funny, ha-ha. Joke all you like, Crowley. There’s nowhere to run.”

“Aren’t you to be lining up, ready for battle around now?” he asked, dropping The Nice and Accurate Prophecies in the backseat.  
“Hell will not forget. Hell will not forgive. You and the angel know where the real Antichrist is, don’t you? You’ll never reach him.” Hatur said as Crowley looked around, not really paying attention, “You’re done, Crowley. Think you’re going to get across that? There’s nowhere to go.”

“Let’s find out,” Crowley said, putting a CD in before speeding toward to wall of fire.

“What—what—why are you driving? That’s—what—Stop this thing.”

“You know the thing I like best about time, is that every day it takes us further away from the fourteenth century. I really didn’t like the fourteenth century. You’d have loved it then.”

“Yeah.”

“They didn’t have any cars back in the fourteenth century. Lovely, clever human people inventing cars, and motorways, and windscreen wipers. You got to hand it to them.”

“Yeah. Aah!” Hastur cried as they neared the wall of flames, “Stop it. It’s over. You’re doomed! You hear me, Crowley? You’re doomed. Whatever happens. Doomed!”

“See? This day’s already got better.” Crowley said with a smile as “I’m In Love With My Car” began to play.

“Crow.” (Y/N) said in a warning voice, grabbing his jacket. Crowley took her hand, kissing the back of it as he held onto it tightly.  
“We’ll be alright, Angel,” he promised, and (Y/N) actually believed him. She relaxed slightly, looking ahead at the fast-approaching wall of flames. They would be fine. And then they plunged into the wall of flames.  
“Stop this! You’ll discorporate us all!” Hastur cried as Crowley laughed, “This is not funny!”

“Come on! If you’ve got to go, then go with style!” Crowley said as Hastur was engulfed by flames, not hesitating to tell the angel and demon he hated them. Crowley laughed as the car began to shake around them, but he still accelerated.  
“You are my car. I’ve had you from new. You are not going to burn. Not with me and my angel inside. Not ever. Don’t even think of it.” he said.

“You’re Crowley’s car. The finest car to ever grace the earth. You won’t burn.” (Y/N) muttered, resting a hand on the dash and focusing her gaze ahead, waiting until they broke out of the flames. Finally, they escaped the wall of flames and with the craziest smile (Y/N) had ever seen him wear, Crowley waved to the police parked outside the wall.  
As they barreled down the road (Y/N) gave Crowley’s hand a light squeeze.  
“Since we’re here, maybe we should talk about a few things,” she said.

“Oh? Like what?”

“About what we’re going to do after this is all over.,,About what we’re going to be.”

“What do you mean?”

“I—I really like you, Crowley. I have for...centuries now. And once we’ve straightened the world out, then I’d like to try and be something. If you would like to be something.”

“I’d like that. It’s just, I have feelings for Aziraphale too. I really like both of you, equally of course, but I can’t pick one over the other.”

“I wouldn’t make you do that. If you want to be with me and Zi-Zi that’s okay. I can help you win Zi-Zi’s affections if you like.”

“Really, Angel?”

“Of course, Crow. And I’m glad you were upfront about it.”

“Kind of an odd setting to have this conversation, though, isn’t it?”

“I suppose so, yes.”

I wasn’t too long, traveling at the ungodly speeds Crowley typically drove, until they reached Tadfield. Crowley’s music blasted through the car, one hand on the wheel with his other arm draped around (Y/N)’s shoulders. Crowley slowed as they entered the village and stopped next to an older man walking his dog. (Y/N) rolled down the window and leaned over.  
“Pardon me, sir. Sorry to bother you, really, We seem to have gotten a little lost. Could you point us in the proper direction to Tadfield Air Base?”

“Might have taken the wrong turn. Signpost blown down. Easy mistake to make.” he said and gave them the proper directions,

“Right, Got it. Terrific.” Crowley said giving the man a quick smile, gently pulling (Y/N) back into his side and getting ready to drive away.  
“Young man.” the gentleman

“Yes?”

“Very unusual weather for the time of year.”

“I’m afraid I hadn’t noticed,” Crowley said, pulling away and speeding down the road.

At breakneck speeds Crowley finally reached the air base, screeching to a halt outside where he and (Y/N) could see Sergeant Shadwell and Aziraphale in the body of an older woman with bright orange hair. They got out, Crowley holding The Nice and Accurate Prophecies.  
“You wouldn’t get that type of performance from a modern car!” Crowley said, slamming the door.

“Crowley? (Y/N)?”

“Hi, Zi-Zi!”

“See you found a ride. Nice dress. Suits you.”

“Ahhh! Now. This young man won’t let us in.”

“Leave it to me.” Crowley said, sauntering up to the young man guarding the gate, “Army human, my friends and I have come a long way, and—”  
He stopped as the gate opened on its own and the man guarding the gate demanded to know who did it when boke bells chimed. They all watched as four kids and a dog hurried past them. The man ordered them not to move and ran after the kids as alarms went off. And then the Bently exploded behind them. Crowley walked towards it in shock and fell to his knees in front of it.  
“Ninety years and not a scratch, now look at you,” he said as (Y/N) joined him on the ground, gently wrapping her arms around him.  
“I’m sorry, Crow,” she said softly as Aziraphale ran over, his heels clicking on the pavement.

“Crowley.” Aziraphale began, “He’s got a gun. He’s pointing it. Do something!”

“I am having a moment here.”

“Crowley! I am the nice one. You can’t expect me to do the dirty work.” Aziraphale said as Sargent Shadwell began to say something to the guard.

“Ma’am, I am giving you all five seconds to vacate this area!” the guard yelled and Aziraphale sighed and hurried back over to Shadwell. (Y/N) glanced over, watching Aziraphale snap his fingers and making the guard vanish.  
“Rest in peace.” Crowley said, “You were a good car.”  
(Y/N) helped him up and they returned to Aziraphale.  
“Nice work on the soldier,” Crowley said

“Oh, I do hope I haven’t sent him somewhere unpleasant,” Aziraphale said as more army cars drove towards them.

“Oh, okay. I need to get over the car thing. I’ll deal with them.” Crowley said, giving (Y/N)’s hand a light squeeze before entering the air base.


	9. Chapter Nine-The End of the World

Some expect the end of the world to be a spectacular showdown with the forces of heaven clad in white, swords drawn, as they descend upon the forces of hell with their horns and tails, pitchforks raised. Some expect the sun to be swallowed by a giant snake and plunge the world into eternal darkness. Some expect a massive battle, spanning nine realms where dead warriors come to battle and all their gods are killed only for the world to be recreated with one god and two humans. Some simply expect it to end when the sun explodes, either swallowing the earth in a wall of flames or for the world to be plunged into darkness and cold when the light finally dies. Well, that was not how the world was going to end. Instead, the stage for the world’s end was set at an American airbase in Tadfield with four children, the descendant of a prophet, a regular man, a witch hunter, a part-time medium, one demon, two angels, and four leather-clad horsemen.

This was to be the end.

“Never fear, laddie. I’ve got a finger.” Shadwell said as they entered the base, earning a strange and confused look from (Y/N).  
“You may need to brandish your weapon, Sergeant Shadwell. We are here to lick some serious butt.” Aziraphale said  
“‘Kick’, Aziraphale. It’s ‘kick butt.’ For Heaven’s sake.” Crowley corrected before gagging, “I can’t believe I just said that.”

It didn’t take long for the troops to be dealt with. A snap of (Y/N)’s fingers and a wave of Crowley’s hand and their cars stopped in their tracks as the soldiers vanished. The group loaded up into one of the cars, Crowley helping (Y/N) and Aziraphale in before climbing behind the wheel, waiting for Shadwell, and then speeding further into the base.

When they stopped they weren’t far from where the Four Horsemen and four children (and a dog) stood, facing each other down.  
“You could finish this for them with one thought. You can make the world anew.” Death said

“That’s him. The curly one.” Crowley said, pointing to one of the three boys as they approached, “Shoot him. Save the world.”  
(Y/N) looked at him, thinking back to the baby she had held as she calmed his crying. How he fell asleep and looked so peaceful. If they had known about the mix-up, what difference would she, Aziraphale, and Crowley have made in his life? Would they have to kill him?  
“You are part of us, not them. No one will disobey you.” Death continued

“What? He’s just a wee bairn. You cannae—” Shadwell began

“Oh, for Heaven’s sake.” Aziraphale said, striding over to Shadwell and yanking the gun away from him, “Give me that.”  
Aziraphale hefted the gun, taking aim at the boy. What had they said his name was? Had they even discussed his name?  
“Ignore this nonsense. A word from you and I will end their lives.”

“You can’t just shoot children!” the woman who Aziraphale was sharing a body with cried.

“Perhaps we should wait,” Aziraphale said, looking over at Crowley who looked between the boy and Aziraphale.

“What, till he grows up? Shoot him Aziraphale!” Crowley yelled. His friends would have to watch. What would that do to them? And the boy’s family. It was to save them all yes, but was it really sparing them the pain?  
“Crowley, I can’t—” (Y/N) whimpered, squeezing Crowley’s hand. Aziraphale aimed again and without thinking (Y/N) lurched forward, pushing the gun up as the woman yanked it up at the same time, the gun firing into the air.  
“I’m sorry.” (Y/N) said, looking over at Crowley tearing up, “H-He’s a child. I could let another child die because he’s ‘too evil’ to be saved.”

Crowley stared at her in shock, but he didn’t seem upset and offered her his hand, which she took.  
“I...I understand, Angel. I can’t agree with it and I wish you hadn’t done it, but I understand.” he said softly.

“Excuse me,” the boy began, looking over at Aziraphale, “why are you two people?”

“Uh, long story. You see, I was in my bookshop—” Aziraphale began when the boy interrupted.

“It’s not right. You should go back to being two separate people again.”

And just like that, Aziraphale and the woman split. (Y/N) ran over, wrapping Aziraphale in a hug.  
“Oh, made me go all tingly.” the woman chuckled, earning a strange look from her companions. The woman quickly returned the gun to Shadwell and (Y/N) rejoined Crowley, taking his hand. War stepped up and the others drew in, forming a sort of circle as she spun a flaming blade.  
“Hey, Zi-Zi, that sword look familiar?”

“Yes, alright, I understand. I’ve learned my lesson. Can we move on from that little incident in the Garden?” Aziraphale muttered.  
“The thing is, they’re not actually real. They’re just like nightmares, really.” the Antichrist said to his friends, looking at the horsemen.

“Little boys with your toys,” War said with a smile.

“I’m not a boy.” the girl said.

“I am War. You were made to serve me,” War continued, looking over at the children and stepping towards them, “to live in me and die in me.”

“My mum says that war is just masculine imperialism executed on a global stage.” the girl said and War laughed.

“A little girl.” she said, circling her sword in the girl’s face, “Run home and play with your dollies, little girl.”

“I do not endorse everyday sexism.” the girl said, stepping forward. War snarled, swinging at the girl who stomped on her foot. The sword clattered to the ground as War hopped around in pain. The girl quickly snatched up the sword and levelled it at War.  
“We’re Adam’s real friends. Not you lot. You’re a joke.” the girl said and some of the Horsemen shared glances.

“Just say what you believe, Pepper.” the Antichrist, that (Y/N) had come to assume was Adam, said. The girl, Pepper, stepped forward as War grabbed the flaming blade.  
“I believe in peace, bitch,” she said and with a wail War combusted, disappearing in a column of flames which were sucked into the sword.  
“Drop it, Pepper. Quick!” Adam said and Pepper released the sword, letting it clatter to the ground. Pollution lunged forward to retrieve the sword, but one of Adam’s friends reached it first and pointed it at Pollution.  
“I believe in a clean world,” he declared and Pollution screamed as she melted into a mass of black goo and smoke that was sucked into the sword. Her crown dropped to the ground with a clang and Famine stepped forward looking ever so slightly scared. The final boy in Adam’s friend group took up the sword.  
“And I believe in food and a healthy lunch,” he said and Famine charged, grabbing the sword.  
“And actually it’s a very good thing.” The boy finished. He and famine wrestled over the sword as the dog—well, Hellhound—went ballistic, barking at Famine before breaking free of its leash and jumping forward to bite Famine’s leg. He let out a scream of pain and collapsed, vanishing into the sword as two scales dropped to the ground.

Finally, only Death remained.

There was a moment’s pause. And then Adam spoke,  
“Death, this all has to stop now.”

“It has stopped. But they will be back.” Death said. We are never far away. I am creation’s shadow. You cannot destroy me, that would destroy the world. Good day, gentleman.”

“Cheek,” the woman who had previously hosted Aziraphale said

“Cheek,” Pepper agreed.

“Cheek indeed,” (Y/N) added. Then lightning flashed as Death opened his wings and vanished.

“There, you see Crowley? (Y/N)? It’s like I’ve always said—“

“Oh it isn’t over.” Crowley interrupted, looking over and shaking his head, “Nothing’s over. Both Heaven and Hell still want their war.”

He looked over at (Y/N) and lowered his voice as he spoke in her ear,  
“What was the Antichrist’s name again?”

“Adam, Dearest.”

“Thank you.” he said before speaking up and walking towards the boy, “You. Boy. Adam. So your friends got together and saved the world. Well done. Have a gold star. Won’t make any difference.”

“You!” a woman’s voice cried and they looked over to see the girl they had hit with the Bently walking towards them, accompanied by a man, “You’re the man in the car. You stole my book!”

“Oh book girl!”

“Anathema.”

“Anathema! Catch!” Crowley said, tossing her The Nice and Accurate Prophecies. She caught it easily and checked it over for a second before eying Crowley again.  
“What is going on out here?” she demanded.

“It’s a rather long story I’m afraid we’re lacking in time for.” (Y/N) said

“Well try me,” Anathema said

“Well, okay...so...uh.” Aziraphale began, “in the beginning, in the garden, there was— Well he was a wily old serpent, and I was technically on apple tree duty, while she had just snuck out of Heaven.”  
Crowley shushed him, saving everyone a rather long-winded explanation. Deciding to act as if nothing had happened Anathema turned to Adam and his friends.  
“Hey, Adam. Hi, Pepper. Hi you two.”

“Hello, Anathema. You just stopped them blowing up the world, didn’t you?” Adam asked as if it were the most regular question in the world.

“I guess. My boyfriend here did the tricky bit.”

“Boyfriend?” The man next to her asked as she took his hand.

“Another deluded victim of the patriarchy,” Pepper said, shaking her head and (Y/N) smiled, lacing her fingers with Crowley’s.

And then lightning struck behind them. They all scrambled back, Crowley pushing (Y/N) behind him as he did. Gabriel appeared from the lightning as Beelzebub rose up from a small circle of flames. The colour drained from (Y/N)’s face at the sight of Gabriel and she clung to Crowley as he kept himself between her and the demon and angel. Beelzebub scoffed in disgust as she dusted herself off and she and Gabriel looked at each other before looking at the trio. They strode forward, through the centre of the group. Crowley stayed carefully between them and (Y/N) giving a dramatic bow to Beelzebub, “Lord Beelzebub.”

“Crowley, the traitor,” she responded

“That’s not a nice word.”

“All the other words I have for you are worse. Where’s the boy?” she buzzed and Crowley looked over to Adam. Gabriel turned and smiled as he pointed at the child and (Y/N) was tempted for a moment to plant herself between the two, but kept herself back knowing it would be pointless.  
“That one.” he said as he approached, Beelzebub trailing behind, “Adam Young. Hi. Young man...Armageddon must...restart. Right now. A temporary inconvenience cannot get in the way of the greater good.”

“As to what it stands in the way of, that has yet to be decided. But the battle must be decided now, boy. That is,” she paused as her voice had grown in rapidity and volume it had begun to buzz which was reined under control before she continued, “you destiny. It is written. Now start the war.”

“You both want to end the world just to see whose gang is best?” Adam asked

“Obviously.” Gabriel laughed, “it’s the Great Plan. It’s the entire reason for the creation of the Earth.”

Little did Gabriel know the simple mention of the Great Plan would snowball in the mind of a particular angel (who had yet to know he, much like his good friend, had gained the affections of a certain demon) and would lead to the bafflement of himself and Beelzebub. And of course hopefully not the end of the world as it was known.  
“I’ve got this.” Beelzebub said moving forward, “Adam, when all this is over, you’re going to get to rule the world. Don’t you want to rule the world?”

“It’s hard enough having to think of things for Pepper and Wensley and Brian to do all the time so they don’t get bored. I’ve got all the world I want.”

“Well, you can’t just refuse to be who you are. Your birth, your destiny, they’re part of the Great Plan.” Gabriel said rather loudly, clearly frustrated with the young Antichrist standing before him.

“Um, ahem…” Aziraphale suddenly said, moving forward earning worried looks from his immortal friends, “excuse me, you keep talking about the Great Plan.”

“Aziraphale, maybe you should just keep your mouth shut,” Gabriel said, mimicking the motion of shutting up with his fingers.

“One thing I’m not clear on. Is that the Ineffable Plan?” he asked

“That Great Plan! It is written. There shall be a world, and it shall last for six thousand years and end in fire and flame.” Beelzebub shouted

“Yes, yes, that sounds like the Great Plan. Just wondering, is that the Ineffable Plan as well?” Aziraphale asked and realization struck Crowley and (Y/N), the later rushing forward.

“Well, they’re the same thing.”

“But are they?” (Y/N) asked stopping next to Aziraphale as it hit her that they didn’t know.

“I mean it would be a pity if you’d thought you were doing what the Great Plan said, but you were actually going directly against God’s Ineffable Plan.”

“Of course everyone knows the Great Plan! But the Ineffable Plan is...well...ineffable. I mean the very definition of ineffable is ‘too great to be expressed by words’ so we can’t really know the Ineffable Plan. Can we?”

“But it is…” Beelzebub began to buzz for a moment, “written.”

“God does not play games with the universe,” Gabriel said, pointing at the trio as if he had made a strong point.

“Where have you been?” Crowley and (Y/N) asked at the same time as the later put her hands on her hips.

“Can I just—” Gabriel said and gestured for Beelzebub to turn away from them and convene with him for a moment. After some low voiced discussion about calling off the war, which made (Y/N) relax immensely, Gabriel turned to face them as he shouted,  
“At least we know whose fault it is!”

The trio smiled and waved and Gabriel and Beelzebub returned their attention to Adam.  
“Young man…” Gabriel began, “you were put on this Earth for one reason and one reason only. To end it. You’re a disobedient little brat. And I hope someone tells your father.”

“Oh, they will,” Beelzebub said and Gabriel pointed to the demon to emphasize the support given to his attempted intimidation, “And your father will not be pleased.”

(Y/N) tensed, reached over for Crowley’s hand as the trio shared a nervous look. Crowley gave it a light squeeze for reassurance though she could tell he was more worried than she was. And just like that, with a poof, Gabriel and Beelzebub were gone.

“Weren’t they odd?” the woman previously inhabited by Aziraphale asked. Not even a second later Crowley cried out and fell to his knees repeating no. (Y/N) felt nausea building as Aziraphale moved over.  
“What’s happening? I can feel something,” he said

“They’ve done it haven’t they?” (Y/N) asked

“Yes. They told his father.”

“Oh, no,” Aziraphale said quickly.

“And his Satanic father is not happy,” Crowley said, moving to get up. (Y/N) moved to help him when the ground pitched below them and Crowley fell back down, (Y/N) tumbling after him as the others stumbled to regain their balance.  
“Perhaps it’s a volcano.” the man Anathema had called her boyfriend offered.

“No, there aren’t any volcanos in England.” Anathema said as Shadwell and the woman cried and stumbled about, “It’s really angry, whatever it is. I can feel it. It’s getting closer.”

The ground continued to pitch and rumble and throw everyone off balance. Crowley managed to righten himself and helped (Y/N) straighten up as Shadwell demanded to know what was going on.  
“Well,” Aziraphale began, “you can call me an old silly, but it looks like the devil is coming, Satan himself.”

“Oh, that’s the way it is, is it? Anyone wants to hurt the whore of Babylon is going to have to get past me.”

“Oh, Mr Shadwell.” the woman said, seeming rather touched. The rumbling continued as Crowley was thrown to the ground again, (Y/N) managing to keep herself upright as she fumbled for Crowley’s hand to help him up. She managed to righten him as he looked up at Aziraphale.  
“Right. That was that. It was nice knowing you.” he said before looking at (Y/N), “And you.”

“No, no. Come on Crow, we’re so close,” (Y/N) said.

“We can’t give up now.” Aziraphale urged.

“This is Satan himself. It isn’t about Armageddon. This is personal. We are fucked!” Crowley yelled as the world lurched again. Aziraphale stumbled back, stopping next to his old sword. He quickly picked it up and turned back to Crowley.  
“Come up with something or…” he began lifting the sword and looking at it making Crowley and (Y/N) raise their eyebrows and look between their friends and the blade, “or I’ll never talk to you again.”

Crowley seemed genuinely motivated and caught off guard by the threat but after a moment he pushed himself up with a grunt and threw his arms in the air and in the blink of an eye (Y/N), Aziraphale, Crowley, and adam were in a different place, cleaned up and the trio of friends with their wings flared out behind them. Crowley reached into his jacket pocket and put on his glasses as the angels stretched, feeling much better.  
“Adam, listen,” Crowley started, “your father is coming to destroy you. Probably to destroy all of us.”

“My dad? He wouldn’t hurt anybody.”

“No, no. Not your Earthly father. Your birth father, Satan. He is coming and he is angry.” (Y/N) said.

“So what do you want me to do about it? Fight him?” Adam asked and there was a pause.

“I don’t think fighting him would do any good. You’re going to have to come up with something else.” Crowley advised.

“But I’m just a kid,” Adam said, turning his back to the three.

“But that’s not a bad thing to be, Adam. You know, I was scared that you’d be Hell incarnate. I hoped you’d be Heaven incarnate. But you’re not either of those things. You’re much better. You’re human incarnate.” Aziraphale explained.

“Often the best solutions come from the most unexpected places, Adam. And from what I have seen it is most often the young, children like you, who are the cleverest of all of us.” (Y/N) said.

“Adam, reality will listen to you right now. You can change things.”

“And whatever happens, for good or for evil…” Aziraphale said as he and Crowley took Adam’s hands, (Y/N) resting her’s on his shoulders, “we’re beside you.”

“You will do what needs to be done, and we trust you will do what you see is fit.” (Y/N) said.

“I’m going to restart time.” Crowley said, “You won’t have long to do whatever you’re going to do,” Crowley said and in a few moments time had restarted and they stood back in the airbase.  
“Do...whatever you’re going to do quickly, Adam..” (Y/N) said as the ground before them erupted and Satan crawled out with a roar.  
“Where is my son?” he asked once he shook the rubble off himself, his eyes soon landing on Adam and his support, “You? You’re my rebellious son? Come here.”

Adam strode forward, leaving the angels and demon behind him as he approached Satan. (Y/N) held her breath (though she didn’t need it) as they waited.  
“You’re not my dad.” Adam said firmly, shaking his head, “dads don’t wait until you’re eleven to say hello and then turn up to tell you off.”

“What?”

“If I’m in trouble with my dad,” Adam said pausing as the ground lurched and Satan growled, “then it won’t be you. It’s going to be the dad who was there. You’re not my dad.”

“What did you say?”

“You can do it,” Aziraphale said, holding his sword ready.

“You’re so close,” (Y/N) said.

“Say it, Adam. Say it again!” Crowley added as Satan slammed his fist on the ground, ordering Adam to come to him.

“You’re not my dad.” he said again, “You never were.”

“No,” Satan said as he began to dissolve into smoke, repeating it as he disappeared and a car drove forward from the smokey remains. The trio looked around as a man exited the vehicle, calling for Adam.  
“That’s really his father,” Aziraphale said.

“It is,” Crowley said.

“Well, now at least.” (Y/N) added, “And always was.”

“He did it,” Crowley said, looking over at his angels with a smile.

It was late as (Y/N) held the box of the Horseman’s items in her lap, sitting between Crowley and Aziraphale, the former with his arm snaked around her waist.  
“It’s all worked out for the best, though. Just imagine how awful it might have been if we’d been at all competent.”

“Oh, perish the thought Zi-Zi.” (Y/N) said as Crowley looked over to the scrap of paper Aziraphale held.

“What’s that?” he asked and Aziraphale passed it over.

“It fell out of Agnes Nutter’s book.”

“‘For soon enough you will be playing with fire’?” Crowley read as he and (Y/N) read over the prophecy, “So this is the final one of Agnes’ prophecies?”

“As far as I know.”

“Hmm. And Adam...human again?”

“From what I can tell, yes.” (Y/N) said as a delivery truck pulled up.

“Angels,” Crowley began, passing the bottle of wine they had over to Aziraphale, “what if the Almighty planned it like this all along? From the very beginning?”

“Could have. Wouldn’t put it past her.” Aziraphale said, before taking a swig from the bottle as the delivery man approached.

“You’ve got the um…” he said and (Y/N) smiled passing him the box.

“Couldn’t have it falling into the wrong hands,” she said as the man opened the box.

“Um, gents, lady. There’s meant to be a sword in here,” he said and (Y/N) and Crowley looked over at their friend how after a moment stood and picked up the sword.  
“Yeah, sitting on it,” he said, passing it over and the delivery man chuckled.

“Good thing you’re here really.”

“How nice to have someone who recognizes our part in saving the—”

“I need someone to sign for it.” the delivery man said and (Y/N) chuckled, taking the pad and quickly signing her name.  
“Do you believe in life after death?” the man suddenly asked and (Y/N) looked up, handing over the pad.

“Well, I suppose so, yes,” she said and Aziraphale nodded, saying something similar.

“Yeah.” the man laughed, “If I was to tell my wife what happened to me today, she wouldn’t believe me. And I wouldn’t blame her.”

He then put his pen away and walked off with the box. It wasn’t long after the bus arrived, and though Aziraphale was concerned about it saying “Oxford”, Crowley assured him it would take them to London.  
“I suppose I should get him to drop me off at the bookshop,” Aziraphale said and there was a small pause.

“Zi-Zi, it burned down. Remember?” (Y/N) said and Aziraphale looked at her, clearly upset before looking away.

“You could stay at my place, if you like.” Crowley offered, drawing Aziraphale’s attention.

“I don’t think my side would like that.” he said, shaking his head a little.

“You don’t have a side anymore.”

“None of us do.” (Y/N) said, taking her friends’ hands, “We’re on our own side.”

“Like Agnes said, we are going to have to choose our faces wisely,” Crowley added as the bus pulled to a stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lord, I'm sorry it's been so long. Life got in the way, but this tale is almost at its end. Thank you for being here as long as you have and I'll see you in the next, and most likely final, chapter.


	10. Chapter Ten-The Very First Day of the Rest of Their Lives

The very first day of the rest of one’s immortal life is rather exciting. Especially when it comes with a reality reboot including the restoration and modification of a much-beloved bookshop and a perfectly intact Bentley. Yes, the world was practically back to perfect. But there were still a few loose ends to tie up.

“A strawberry lolly and two vanillas with a flake, please.”  
Questions were asked about the Bently and bookshop and reports were given about their good condition while treats were passed around.  
“Have you heard from your people yet?”  
A shake of the head, “Yours?”  
“Nothing.”

“Do you understand what happened yesterday?”

“Well, I understand some of it. But some of it...well, it’s just a little bit too—”

“Ineffable.” Death said from the hillside.

“Oh, that—that’s funny seeing him here. That’s meant to be bad luck.”  
Death vanished in a puff of black.  
“It’s meant to be bad…”  
Four angels in white shirts and tan overalls dragged to of the trio away, their mouths gagged as Sandalphon and Uriel stepped forward.  
“Renegade angels all tied up with strings,” Uriel said, blocking the path after the two alleged renegade angels.  
“These are a few of our favourite things,” Sandalphon finished.

“Stop1 Stop! Stop them!”

“What’s wrong love?” a woman called before smacking the remaining member over the head before standing to reveal himself as Hastur and gathered observers as demons.  
“Ooh, bad luck dear.”

Heaven was it’s usual bright, colourless self as the two dragged away by angels sat, tied up in chairs.  
“Ah. Aziraphale. (Y/N). So glad you could join us.” Gabriel said, grabbing a shoulder as he walked passed.  
“You could have just sent a message. I mean, a kidnapping, in broad daylight.”

“Call it what it was: an extraordinary rendition.” Gabriel chuckled, “Now have we heard from our new associate?”

“He’s on his way,” Uriel said making Gabriel smile.

“He’s on his way. I think you’re going to like this.”—he walked towards them—“I really do. And I bet you didn’t see this one coming.”  
They were joined by a demon after a moment who commented on the view before tossing hellfire into the ring they had made for the execution of the two the had taken. One half of the duo tensed slightly as the other remained still.  
“So,” Gabriel said, “with one act of treason, you both averted the war.”  
“Well, we think the greater good—”

“Don’t talk to me about the greater good, sunshine. I’m the Archangel fucking Gabriel. The greater good was we were finally going to settle things with the opposition once and for all.” Uriel stepped forward and untied the calm one of the pair.  
“Up.”

“I don’t suppose I can persuade you to reconsider? We’re meant to be the good guys, for Heaven’s sake.”  
“Well, for Heaven’s sake, we are meant to make examples out of traitors. So...into the flame. We do have two of you to take care of after all.  
The released one slowly approached the swirling inferno, stopping just on the edge.  
“Right. Well...lovely knowing you all. May we meet on a better occasion.”

“Shut your stupid mouth, and die already.”  
They stepped into the flame, cracked their neck, and roared as fire shot from the column. With much fear and minimal debate, the pair was sent back to Earth. Only one ever having stepped into the hellfire.

Soon the trio was reunited in the park.  
“Do you think they’ll leave us alone now?” Crowley asked, still looking like Aziraphale.

“At a guess, they’ll pretend it never happened,” Aziraphale answered, still looking like Crowley. (Y/N) glanced around before she spoke,  
“Alright, no one is looking.”  
Crowley and Aziraphale clasped hands and slowly turned back into themselves seeing rather relieved to be back in their own form.  
“Tartan collar. Really?”

“Tartan is stylish,” Aziraphale argued and Crowley sputtered.

“Don’t listen to him Zi-Zi, it is stylish.” (Y/N) said, beaming as Crowley slipped his arm around her waist.

“So, Agnes Nutter’s las prophecy was on the money. I asked them for a rubber duck and made the Archangel Micheal miracle me a towel.” Aziraphale said, seeming rather pleased with himself as the trio burst into laughter.  
“Well, they’ll definitely leave us be for a while.” (Y/N) said when they had quieted down.

“If you ask me, both sides are going to use this as breathing space before the big one,” Crowley said.

“I thought that was the big one,” Aziraphale said, his face falling slightly.

“No. for my money the really big one is all of us against all of them,”

“What? Heaven and Hell against...humanity?”

“Right. Time to leave the garden.” Crowley said, standing and offering a hand to (Y/N) who took it and let him haul her up off the bench, “Let me tempt you to a spot of lunch?”

“Temptation accomplished.” Aziraphale chuckled, standing and joining his friends, “Hmm, what about the Ritz? I believe a table for three has just miraculously come free.”

Lunch had been good and after toasting one another and enjoying their food the trio parted ways. Crowley offered to take (Y/N) back to her flat and she accepted, the pair wishing Aziraphale a good day before approaching the Bentley. (Y/N) stopped just in front of it, gently grabbing Crowley jacket sleeve.

“What is it, Angel?”

“Well, I did promise you something,” she said, slipping her arms around Crowley’s neck.

“Oh did you?”

“I did, and it’s a little overdue since we saved the world yesterday and you’re still lacking a kiss.”

“Well then, Angel,” Crowley said, sliding his arms around her waist and pulling her flush with his body, “by all means fulfil your promise.”

(Y/N) pulled Crowley into a kiss, smiling as their lips met and the world seemed to disappear. Perhaps the world would eventually turn into humanity against Heaven and Hell and soon she would be helping her beloved boyfriend gain another lover in Aziraphale and they would need to decide what to do with the eternity laid out before them. But for right now she was an angel, Crowley’s angel, and the only thing that mattered was letting the demon she was kissing know just how much his angel loved him. Then she could figure out what to do after the very first day of the rest of their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to publish this earlier than I intended because you all have had to wait for about seven months for an update so I thought you deserved an early conclusion. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed the story! I had a lot of fun writing it and all the support I received always made my day. Again, thank you all for reading and I wish you many more happy days of reading.


End file.
